


dial 2 for a good time

by btajh



Category: NU'EST, Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Developing Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Phone Sex, Switching, Tags may be updated later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 06:11:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13805097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/btajh/pseuds/btajh
Summary: The story of how Hwang Minhyun, a not-so-average, blindingly good-looking fifth year film major, gets duped into falling in love with Ong Seongwu, local sex hotline operator extraordinaire.





	1. Chapter 1

It’s Minhyun’s first time getting drunk.

He’s not even _really_ drunk. Not compared to Daniel, who’s already passed out face-down on the floor, or Sungwoon, who’s dancing on a table with his jacket tied around him like a cape. Jaehwan cheers him on from the ground, leaning against Daniel’s big body. His voice is somehow even louder than normal, and it’s not helping Minhyun’s headache.

The beer he’s drinking tastes like shit and only reminds him why he hates drinking. It’s Daniel’s birthday, though, and his _one wish_ apparently was to see Minhyun drunk. Too bad he passed out before Minhyun could get there. 

Because Minhyun isn’t drunk. Just... a little tipsy. Slightly. He’ll be fine once his headache passes. Probably.

Jaehwan’s screeching gets louder and louder and while Minhyun has what Daniel refers to as _godlike patience_ , even he has his limits. He manages to stagger into Daniel’s bedroom and slam the door shut before collapsing on his bed. There’s approximately ten stuffed animals on his mattress and Minhyun shoves them all off to make room for himself.

Thankfully, Daniel’s apartment is blessed with good insulation, and Jaehwan’s screaming becomes more like a whisper. Or the pounding in his head is just getting loud enough to drown it out. Either way, he would take a headache and silence over a headache and their antics.

The responsible part of his brain tells him he can’t just fall asleep like this, though. What if something _happens_ to them? Sungwoon may be older than him, but he’s far past the point of being considered human. Right now, he’s just a tiny, wasted firecracker. 

Jaehwan continues to scream. Sungwoon may scream too. It’s like their own little mating call. Incredible, how Daniel hasn’t woken up yet. And also quite scary, given the amount of alcohol it indicates he consumed.

“Okay,” Minhyun mumbles to himself. “Phone.”

Minhyun fumbles through the process of getting his phone out from his back pocket. He regrets wearing the tight jeans that stretch across his ass—Jonghyun said they looked nice, but Minhyun’s pretty sure making his ass look half-decent was not worth the pain of wearing these. It’s not like he had anyone to impress tonight. Taking a detour from swiping open his phone, he decides to take off his pants. 

That’s better.

“Good job,” Minhyun congratulates himself. He squints at his phone screen. 02:36 AM. Not bad. “Call Jisung hyung. Jisung... fuck.” He tries to get his phone unlocked, but his thumbs keep slipping. Why won’t his hands cooperate? 

Fuck this, he thinks. He taps the emergency call button instead. He’s _not_ drunk; he can totally remember Jisung’s number.

“Uh...” He stares at the keypad. He knows there’s a 2 somewhere in the first half. And a 4, and... maybe a 6? The number doesn’t seem quite right when he’s finished inputting it, but whatever. Maybe the person who he does call will know Jisung too. That would be nice.

The number rings twice before a man’s voice comes through from the other end. Slightly deeper and much sweeter than Jisung’s usual snap of his name when he calls him past 10 PM, so decidedly not Jisung.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Minhyun says. He blinks. What was he supposed to say again? “I’m not drunk.”

The man on the other end laughs. He has—a nice laugh that makes Minhyun’s heart flip in his chest. _This_ is why he doesn’t drink, aside from how gross alcohol tastes. 

“Sure, sweetheart.” Minhyun can feel the sleaziness come off the man’s tongue and—did he just call him _sweetheart_? Geez, they were moving fast. “I don’t mind if you are, as long as you’re somewhere safe and coherent enough to understand what I’m saying. Oh, and you pay me, obviously. But I’ll keep that on the DL—I know it’s not sexy.”

What.

“What,” Minhyun says smartly.

“... Unless you think paying me is hot? Man, I don’t know. You’re really out of it, aren’t you?” There’s a crackling noise that makes Minhyun jump back, dropping his phone on the bed. “Sorry, just moving away. But like, if that’s your thing—talking about money or whatever—I’m cool with that. Just tell me what you want.”

Minhyun’s brain is not alive enough to process any of this.

“I, uh... you’re not Jisung hyung,” Minhyun gets out. He grabs his phone against and holds it close to his face, squinting at the number. Maybe there _isn’t_ a 2 in there. “Why am I supposed to pay you?”

The man sighs suddenly, and his voice drips with pity. “Oh, sweetheart. This is a sex hotline. You didn’t get a fake number, did you?”

“A—what? I—No?” Minhyun stammers. The only words he comprehends are _sex hotline_ and _fake number_. “I’m—trying to call my friend? I’m not drunk.”

“Well, I’m not him.” His voice brightens again. Probably at the prospect of Minhyun’s non-existent heart not being broken, while Minhyun himself is still reeling over how Jisung’s number is only a few digits off from a real, actual sex hotline. He wonders if anyone else has made this mistake before. “... Unless that’s what you’re into. If you can give me a quick description of personality and build, then...”

“What!” Minhyun yelps so loudly that he’s sure the entire building would hear if it wasn’t for Jaehwan’s undefeatable loudness. “Me and—Jisung hyung—and—No! No. I’m not—I’m not into that.”

“Hey, I don’t know your life. Seriously, that’s about the least weird thing people ask for—me being someone else. I don’t judge.” 

Minhyun buries his face against his hand. What the fuck is he doing? 

“You tell me,” the man says, and Minhyun didn’t even realize he was speaking out loud. “Although if you’re not going to pay me to do _something_ , I have other people I have to get to.”

“Something?” Minhyun asks.

“Some people call just to vent. As I said, I’m not going to judge, I’m just trying to earn money here, so...”

Minhyun thinks very hard for a moment. It feels like there’s a solution here. 

Oh, wait. 

“Wait,” Minhyun calls. “Can you do me a favour? Can you facebook friend request Yoon Jisung and ask him to come to Kang Daniel’s house? His profile picture has a dog in it.” 

He’s a genius. Fucking up and calling a sex hotline because he can’t get his phone open and then somehow salvaging the situation by paying said sex hotline to call Jisung. He’s feeling rather proud of himself for this one.

“You’re actually going to pay me for that? Uh, sure. I’m putting you on speaker, don’t freak out.” The phone _clicks_ and then the man’s voice gets further away. Minhyun finds himself kind of missing it and _oh no_ don’t start feeling positive things for the sex hotline guy just because you’re paying him to fix your shitty mistakes. This is his _job_. “Yoon Jisung?”

“Um, yeah.” Minhyun flushes. Now he’s not feeling very proud all of the sudden. Jisung’s going to kill him. He’s supposed to be the responsible one; now he’s tipsy and Daniel is half-dead at his own party. He’ll probably get a noise complaint tomorrow. “Thanks,” he mumbles.

“Anything you want,” the man says, and his voice dips somewhere that hits Minhyun right in the chest.

It’s a sex hotline. Right. Minhyun, you dumbass. A horrible heat pools in his stomach and he shifts to press his legs together.

“He has facebook notifications on. He’s trying to become a social media star, so. He should reply like right away if you start your message with ‘This is very important’,” Minhyun says, perhaps supplying a little too much personal information on Jisung.

The man seems to find it funny, though, and Minhyun can hear him tap away on a keyboard.

“Already sent. I’ll tell you when he replies.” 

Minhyun sits on Daniel’s bed, knees tucked to his chest, wondering why he doesn’t just hang up and try and call Jisung again. For real. But what if he somehow calls another sex hotline? For all intents and purposes, this guy has been pretty helpful, so he guesses he should stay on the line.

The silence is pretty awkward, though.

“What’s your name?” Minhyun blurts out.

“My real name?”

Minhyun sets his phone down on the bed and lies down on his back, staring at the ceiling. Does the man have a fake name? A pornstar name, maybe? But he’s not a pornstar. Unless maybe he is? Minhyun has way too many questions and not nearly enough energy to ask them, so he just replies with, “Yeah.”

“Seongwu,” Seongwu says. “And you, baby?”

“Baby?” Minhyun squeaks.

“Tell me your name and I’ll replace it. Or a fake name, as long as it’s not something weird like Lettuce. Someone gave me that once. Made it kinda hard to get into the mood.”

“My name is—is Minhyun, why do you—hold on.” Minhyun pauses and thinks very, very hard. “Oh no, uh, I can’t...”

“Why?” Seongwu asks curiously. “You got a partner?”

“I’m... drunk,” Minhyun says lamely. It’s a bad excuse and he knows it. He’s not even slurring his words. And he’s said the words _I’m not drunk_ at least three times.

“Honestly? I don’t think you’re that drunk. Some people call and they can’t even form sentences. You just seem frazzled. Don’t drink a lot, I’m guessing?”

Minhyun presses his palm against his cheek. Seongwu’s voice is so nice and he’s so good at conversation Minhyun hates it. He prays with every fibre of his being that Jisung replies soon, because Minhyun can’t resist continuing the conversation.

“No. I’ve never drank this much before. Ever.” He can’t even remember the last time he drank period, before this. His first year of university?

“Ah,” Seongwu intones knowingly. “First time for everything.”

“Um, yeah.” Like calling a sex hotline, Minhyun thinks. That seems like a bigger first than getting tipsy.

A few more moments pass in a silence that Minhyun despises just as much as Seongwu probably does before Seongwu speaks up again.

“I’m not going to force you to do anything. But since you _are_ already paying me, we might as well do something.”

Minhyun presses his fingers against his eyelids. His headache has mostly gone away now, actually; Seongwu’s voice is light and constant, each word coming out at an even pace, like he’s not stressed at all, every sentence forming naturally in contrast with how obviously out of his element Minhyun is. It’s a weird thing to appreciate, but the consistency seems to calm his brain. Unfortunately, his lack of a headache doesn’t mean he’s any less conflicted over this.

“Seriously?” Minhyun asks, and Seongwu just hums. “Do I have to pay more?”

“Nope. As I said, right now you’re just paying to talk to me while I stare at my laptop waiting for this Jisung guy to answer.”

Minhyun bites his lip. The last time he had sex was—four months ago? Five? And even then, it wasn’t even good. Seongwu works for a sex hotline. The (small) part of Minhyun’s brain that’s desperate to relieve a little bit of sexual frustration reasons that he must be good at his job.

Not that he thinks Seongwu is going to reach out from Minhyun’s phone screen and grab his dick, but. The idea of getting off does seem rather enticing, even if it’s only through Seongwu’s smooth voice and his own hand.

This is why alcohol is evil.

“Okay,” Minhyun says very quietly. He’s not even sure Seongwu hears him before there’s another _click_ and Seongwu’s voice is closer again, as if right up to his ear. 

“Don’t worry,” Seongwu says, like Minhyun could stop at will. “Are you on a bed? Lie back, roll your shoulders, relax. I’ll take care of you.”

Minhyun sucks in a deep breath and does as Seongwu says. He presses the back of his head to Daniel’s pillow, breathing in the strong smell of the cologne he usually uses, and tries to imagine a tall, faceless man over him. Well, actually—

“Are you tall?”

Seongwu keeps _laughing_. For some reason, that does more to stir Minhyun’s cock than the thought of actually being fucked. “Pretty tall,” he confirms.

—A tall, faceless man. Likely handsome. Definitely a smooth talker. Everything Minhyun dreams of when he’s in bed alone already, so it doesn’t take much for him to exhale and relax, as Seongwu said.

“You ever been with a guy before?” Seongwu says.

Minhyun swallows, remember the last guy he’d fucked. Minhyun doesn’t get drunk, obviously, so he doesn’t meet people at clubs normally; he’d been one of Minhyun’s clients, which sounds like a very bad idea, but it didn’t really go anywhere after they fucked in Minhyun’s apartment. He was a little too soft for Minhyun’s tastes, which he definitely has no intentions to tell Seongwu about. Despite how he’s sure Seongwu has heard much worse than the fact that Minhyun maybe likes it _a little_ rough—and he said as much earlier—he just doesn’t fancy telling a stranger something like that over the phone.

But of course, having phone sex is totally fine. He’s paying for it anyways, right?

He settles for a simple “Yes.”

“Good, good.” Minhyun can almost hear the smile in Seongwu’s tone. He can imagine it, too. Someone with brown hair, because Minhyun likes natural colours the most, and full lips. High cheekbones to accentuate a nice smile. “What are you wearing?”

“Nothing, I mean—just my shirt and boxers,” Minhyun says. The _nothing_ slips out as an accident; he’s certainly not naked, though with how bare his legs feels, he might as well be. 

“I suppose it’s late enough that not wearing pants is normal,” Seongwu chuckles. “And I’m glad you’re wearing a shirt still. I’d love to run my hands up your stomach, your chest... maybe graze your collarbone and your neck, if you’re into that. You want to do that for me, baby?”

Every word that rolls off Seongwu’s tongue makes his heart race, and he finds himself following Seongwu’s instructions with his hand before Seongwu even asks. The muscles of his stomach instinctively flex underneath his touch, and as he roams higher, he tries to imagine a more focused caress. Someone who knows what they’re doing. What they want from him.

When he reaches his neck, he curls his fingers around his jaw without Seongwu asking, thinking about someone angling him into a kiss. Those curved lips over his. Seongwu’s sweet voice right against him, literally—and the smallest of brushes makes him moan.

He tries to angle his head away from the phone, embarrassed by how quickly he’s gone. He may be tipsy, but he doesn’t want to give Seongwu the satisfaction of knowing how wanton he is already. How bad would that make it seem like his sex life is? Pretty poor, which is true.

Seongwu has good ears, unfortunately. “You like that?” he says. “Where are you touching now?”

“My throat,” Minhyun says, then grazes over his cheek. “My face.”

“Fuck yeah,” Seongwu says. He sounds a little out of breath. Minhyun hopes dearly that he’s even slightly affected by hearing Minhyun moan; even if it’s just one-tenth of what Minhyun is feeling from touching himself. “Bet you have a pretty face to match that pretty voice of yours.”

Minhyun licks his lips, dropping his hand to his side. 

“How do you usually get off?”

“Is there a normal way to touch yourself?” Minhyun shoots back, but it’s lacking any kind of force behind it. He presses his thighs together, letting his cock rub in between them, already half-hard simply from hearing Seongwu’s voice.

“Nope,” Seongwu replies. “You jerk yourself off with your hand? Finger yourself? Both, maybe?”

Minhyun groans—he doesn’t understand how Seongwu can say those things, even if it’s his job. Can’t he hear how fucked up Minhyun is already? He moves his hand to cover the front of his boxers, lightly holding his cock up between his fingers. Not enough contact to really do anything but alleviate some pressure.

“The first one, but—but sometimes both,” Minhyun admits. He runs his thumb up the tented fabric, over the length of his cock, and waits.

“Do you have any lube there?”

“I’m, hah, in my friend’s apartment.” Jaehwan and Sungwoon have quieted down now, which hopefully means they’ve passed out and not that they’re listening in—he’s pretty sure neither of them have the self-control to hear him accidentally call a sex hotline and not barge in to make fun of him. “I don’t want to go through his stuff.”

“That’s okay,” Seongwu soothes. “Can you wet your fingers for me? Put your hand in your mouth and get them nice and slick.”

Minhyun removes his hand from his dick and does as Seongwu says. He pushes in his index and middle fingers, swirling his tongue around the digits, using all of his focus to project the feel of someone else. He must be a bit sloppy with his noises, because Seongwu groans on the other end listening to him.

“You sound so hot,” Seongwu says. “Can you be a little louder? Don’t try and muffle it. I love your voice.” He sounds genuine.

Slipping his fingers from his mouth, he keeps them along his lips as he speaks. Thinks about Seongwu on the other end, stroking himself while thinking of Minhyun. “Are you touching yourself too?”

“Sometimes I don’t, but—you, yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Minhyun doesn’t say anything back to that, just brings his phone closer and goes back to sucking on his fingers. The thought of sucking Seongwu’s dick pops up into his mind, and now that his brain has helpfully supplied that image, it’s hard to move on from. 

God. He didn’t even realize how much pent up sexual frustration he’s been carrying lately until right now.

He keeps going and going, gliding his fingers along his teeth, not bothering anymore to try and hide his noises. He’s already this far gone, and he’d rather moan than talk. By the time Seongwu stops him, spit dribbles down his chin, and his dick is so hard it feels like the front of his boxers are going to split open.

“Seongwu,” he gasps.

“Shit,” Seongwu curses. “You hard?”

Minhyun uses his other hand to touch himself again. He wants to take off his boxers so badly, but he has a feeling Seongwu is going to tell him to take them off soon enough anyways so he tries to be patient. He settles with rubbing his inner thighs instead, shivering whenever he sweeps particularly close to his cock.

“You know I am,” Minhyun says, digging his nails into his lower lip.

“You’re right,” Seongwu grunts. “I can hear it in your voice. Okay, Minhyunnie.” Another tremble runs down Minhyun’s spine, making him jerk against the sheets, at his name coming off so smooth. It sounds so easy for him. “Pull down your boxers. Take it slow, though. Rub yourself against your cock, but don’t grip it properly.”

Minhyun groans, throwing one arm over his forehead. He squirms to take off his boxers down to his knees, then cups himself in his palm. He doesn’t wrap his fingers around the shaft; just rubs against his palm like Seongwu said. It’s covered in his spit, slick, just as Seongwu wanted, and it feels so fucking _good_.

He spreads his legs out further, giving himself more room to thrust up. He wishes so badly it was Seongwu’s hand, surprising him with his movements, keeping Minhyun on his toes. His fringe falls in front of his eyes and he keeps his gaze downwards, over his own sweat-soaked body, flushed red from the remnants of the alcohol and how fucking turned on he is.

“That’s nice, isn’t it?” Seongwu whispers. Minhyun whines in reply, grinding so hard against his cock it would hurt if his hand wasn’t so wet. “Fuck into your palm.”

There’s nothing in the world short of Jaehwan bursting in that could stop him from listening to Seongwu—something about his voice, the way he speaks, just makes Minhyun melt into the sheets. He shuts his eyes, his cheek scraping over the edge of his phone.

He curls his fist around himself properly, _finally_ , and moans right into the microphone for Seongwu to hear.

“Wish I could fuck you properly,” Seongwu sighs. Minhyun squeezes down on himself, wishing it just as much. “Go quickly, Minhyun. Don’t let up.”

Minhyun strokes upward, feeling himself pulse; he feels it in his heavy dick, his thighs tensing, his throat swallowing uselessly for air. He jerks himself off like any normal person, but it’s never been like this.

He does it fast, thrusting into his hand, keeping his grip tight and hard. Luckily, the way Seongwu likes him is the same way he likes himself, and it doesn’t take long for him to turn and rut against the sheets, desperate.

“Seongwu,” Minhyun whimpers. Seongwu makes a low noise back, and fuck, he has to be close. Minhyun can hear it, even if he can’t see it. He licks his lips, imagining Seongwu fisting his dick the same way he told Minhyun to. Somewhere out there, Seongwu is jerking off thinking of him, listening to _him_.

His hand moves faster. His pulse speeds up. 

He rubs his thumb against the weeping head of his dick and twists on the sheets, “Seongwu.”

“You gonna cum, baby?” Seongwu asks, each word puncturing through the heat-haze of Minhyun’s brain like a punch to the gut. 

“Yeah—yeah, please, fuck,” Minhyun gasps out, and he doesn’t even know what he’s begging for other than to hear Seongwu speak more.

“You did so well,” Seongwu says. “You’re doing so well. You can cum, baby. Let me hear you.”

His back arches right off the bed as he dips his other hand to fondle his balls, tugging a little too harshly at the same time that his fingers fall back onto his shaft. Something inside him just _snaps_ and he cums so hard he has a brief flash of concern that someone will actually hear him moan; streaking all over his hand, his thighs shaking uncontrollably and his toes digging into the mattress.

For a moment, all he can even comprehend is the quiet groans Seongwu lets out from the other side of the phone. Minhyun continues to palm lazily at himself, listening to Seongwu jerk off, little brushes over his oversensitive dick. 

He’s pretty sure he just died—or, at least, had the best orgasm of his life, and he doesn’t know how to feel about the fact it came from talking to some guy over a sex hotline.

Eventually, Seongwu’s moaning stops, forming into a choke and then a sigh. Everything seems to still for a moment, frozen in time. His head isn’t pounding anymore, but he feels like he’s floating.

And then Seongwu’s voice comes back over the speaker, significantly more rough than earlier. “Wow,” is all he says.

Minhyun giggles and rolls onto his stomach, shoving his face into Daniel’s warm pillow. It’s kind of covered in his drool now, but he’s too flustered over approximately five-hundred other things for that to even register in the midst of his exhaustion.

“You’re incredible,” Seongwu continues, mirroring Minhyun’s laugh. There it is again. If he wasn’t already spent, that one noise would’ve probably made him cum on the spot. He presses his cheek against his arm, looking at the dim screen of his phone, the unknown number that signifies Seongwu. 

“Uh, thanks,” Minhyun says, suddenly speechless again. “You too?”

“Yeah. I could tell by the noises you made.” Minhyun groans at that, unable to become any redder than he already is. He’s _burning_. “Don’t worry. They’re beautiful.”

“Beautiful is—not a word that I’ve ever heard people describe moans with,” Minhyun says.

“You haven’t been with the right people, then.”

Something about those words make Minhyun feel all fuzzy; but then he remembers where he is, who he is, who Seongwu is, and it all goes down the drain.

Seongwu doesn’t even know him. He doesn’t know who Minhyun’s been with before. He might like Minhyun’s voice, but—

“By the way, your friend is on his way.”

“What?” Minhyun shoots up from the bed. “Like. Like now?”

“Yeah.” Seongwu says it like it’s funny, like Minhyun isn’t literally ass naked in Daniel’s bed with cum all over his stomach and hand. “Sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt. That was a bit selfish of me.”

Whatever floaty feeling he got from his orgasm is gone in a flash as he scrambles to wipe off his hands with a tissue, then gather his clothing. His shirt falls back over his torso and he pulls up his boxers and pants, his hands fumbling with the zipper.

Once Minhyun’s done putting his clothes back on, he glances down at the mess on Daniel’s sheets. Honestly, Daniel probably wouldn’t think twice about it; Minhyun’s had the misfortune of walking in on him getting off not once, but _twice_ , so he would probably think that it was his own cum. But Minhyun isn’t nearly that horrible of a person, so he puts his phone on the bedside table and begins to strip the sheets off the bed.

“So, are we done?” Seongwu asks. 

Minhyun stands alone in Daniel’s room, holding his cum-covered sheets and keeping one side of his hearing concentrated on the front door. He feels half like an idiot and half like he just made the weirdest and luckiest mistake of his life.

“Yeah. I guess,” Minhyun says. “Thanks?”

“Sure,” Seongwu replies easily. “It was pretty great for me too. Don’t be shy. Call again if you ever feel lonely. If someone else picks up, just ask for me. I’ll make time for you.”

Minhyun can’t formulate a reply to that before there’s a familiar _click_ and the line goes dead. 

Soon enough (too close for comfort considering how Minhyun just barely shoved the cum-stained sheets into Daniel’s washer), Jisung bursts into the apartment and almost cries seeing three grown men passed out on the floor. 

“I kind of expected this, since Daniel told me he was going to try and get you to drink. But man. It still sucks,” Jisung says as they drag Jaehwan to Jisung’s car. Minhyun didn’t drink that much, so by the time Jisung drops him off at his complex, he doesn’t feel anything except some mild nausea and lingering confusion of _what the fuck_ just happened.

He’s far, far too tired to dwell on it though. It’s not like it’s going to happen again. If there’s one thing he’s learned from this, it’s that he’s not cut out for drinking, and he’s never going to touch that hotline again while sober, or tipsy, or just plain ever. Even if Seongwu did have a sexy voice and a good way with words.

Minhyun barely makes it to his bed before he passes the fuck out.

 

 

The next morning, Minhyun’s phone goes off an hour later than normal. He turned off his alarm yesterday morning, so it must be a text. Normally Minhyun would just ignore it, but the sheer anxiety of it possibly being one of his friends accusing him of being irresponsible makes him check. He has to defend his honour, even if he doesn’t have any good excuses.

It’s an unknown number, though, not one of his friends’ emoji-filled display names. Minhyun frowns and swipes it open. His jaw very quickly falls open when he reads it.

_Thank you for calling with Superstar Hotline at 2:39 AM. We offer a discreet and secure way to relieve sexual and emotional frustrations, and we dearly hope you enjoyed your time with our representative._

_Your bill for your call at 2:39 AM is $139.78 and can be paid at the attached link via mobile banking._

_Thank you again for calling with Superstar Hotline and we hope you’ll call us again for any of your future needs!_

Minhyun blinks once. And then twice. And then three times, like the message will disappear, but it doesn’t.

Then slowly, like a movie scene flashing before his eyes, he recalls last night’s events: Daniel’s birthday party, the fucking drinking games, locking himself in Daniel’s room, calling Seongwu, getting off on Daniel’s bed, being dragged home by Jisung and probably ruining his reputation forever.

“Fuck you, Seongwu,” Minhyun says and slams his phone down on his table, promptly falling back asleep and dreaming of mysterious hands on him and an even more mysterious voice whispering in his ear.

Fuck Seongwu, and fuck Minhyun, too, because he wakes up with a raging hard-on and a $139.78 bill for twenty minutes of phone sex.

He’s screwed in more ways than he can count.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is what i choose to spend my time doing.
> 
> please let me know what you think by commenting! (especially if it's something good...) i will do my best to get the next chapter up soon! thank you so much for reading this far, i really appreciate it. 
> 
> twitter: [@btajhs](https://twitter.com/btajhs) (come talk to me!)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is almost 2x the length of the first one, so i hope that makes up for my constant teasing on twitter. enjoy!
> 
> (warning for some family issues - not abuse, just uncomfortable discussions about minhyun’s future. read with caution!)

“So, basically, you got played,” Jinyoung says matter-of-factly. “It was only a matter of time.”

Two days later, Minhyun still hasn’t paid the bill from the sex hotline. Partly because he doesn’t want to, but he also doesn’t really have enough disposable income to drop $140 for a phone call. Unplanned, at least. He promised to take out Daniel again this weekend and he’s definitely not going to have enough if he pays this.

“I didn’t... I mean, he seemed nice,” Minhyun mumbles. He can’t remember every detail of what happened, but he certainly remembers enough to know that Seongwu didn’t pressure him into anything. Minhyun was just _stupid_ ; he did it by choice, which is a lot worse than Seongwu manipulating him into something.

“You can get played and he can be nice at the same time, hyung.” Jinyoung sighs and looks up from his homework. “You know the government or something is going to come after you if you don’t pay that bill, right?”

“The government is not going to come after me, Jinyoungie. Have you been spending too much time with Jaehwan lately?” Jinyoung makes a horrible noise. Willingly hanging out with Jaehwan is apparently offensive to him, though Minhyun knows Jinyoung secretly, _deep_ down, loves hanging out with his older friends. “Maybe I can call them and ask to delay the payment. They haven’t sent me a follow-up text.”

“Why would I ever hang out with Jaehwan hyung for _fun_ —” Jinyoung starts. Minhyun gives him a lingering look to shut him up. “Then just ignore it, I guess. But make sure you lock your doors at night or else—” Jinyoung makes a stabbing motion with his pencil, face pinched.

Minhyun coos. He’s so cute when he pretends to be aggressive like that.

“Hyung, stop,” Jinyoung whines. “I’m serious. Maybe not the government, but someone is going to get mad at you if you don’t pay. Unless...” He trails off, tapping his chin with his fingers.

Bringing his knees to his chest, Minhyun waits for him to continue. But Jinyoung’s picked up on Minhyun’s habit of zoning out, and Minhyun ends up having to prompt him, “Unless?”

“Don’t call me a conspiracy theorist for saying this,” Jinyoung says, which is always a great start to a conversation. “But what if that wasn’t a sex hotline? Like. What if you just called some guy and he pretended that he worked for a sex hotline but actually just wanted to have phone sex with you because you have a nice voice.”

Minhyun feels a lot of not-so-great things all at once. “First of all.” He lifts his hand in front of him. “Please don’t say that word. You’re too young.” Jinyoung tries to interrupt him with _hyung, I’ve been an adult for an entire year, when are you going to realize—_ but Minhyun is a master at talking over him. “Second of all. That’s ridiculous. What kind of a person thinks that fast? What kind of a person would even... do that?”

“A smart one.” Jinyoung shrugs. 

“You’re a conspiracy theorist.” Minhyun frowns.

“Hyung!”

“I call them like I see them,” Minhyun says, completely honest. “Don’t worry. I still love you even if you have bad ideas.”

Jinyoung narrows his eyes at him and Minhyun is definitely missing whatever Jinyoung is trying to telepathically communicate to him. 

“I’m the one with bad ideas?” Oh. Now Minhyun gets it. “You’re the one that paid some random guy $140 to send _one message_ to Jisung hyung on facebook, when you could’ve just walked out of the room and asked Sungwoon hyung to call for you!”

Minhyun flushes up to his ears. He gets a weird feeling of pride whenever Jinyoung calls people out like that, because it displays the amazing critical thinking skills Minhyun knows he’s capable of. That doesn’t mean he likes being on the receiving end of it.

“Sungwoon hyung was a thousand times drunker than I was. Maybe I could’ve tried harder to unlock my phone, or I could’ve just hung up, or—”

“I get it.”

“—But the point is, I’m trying to fix it now.” Minhyun lowers his hand, waiting to see if Jinyoung will keep yelling, but he appears to actually be listening now. “So.”

“... So?”

“I’m thinking of what to do still,” Minhyun grumbles.

“I don’t know. Call back and yell at that guy. That’s what I’d do,” Jinyoung says.

“I know that’s what you would do, Jinyoungie, and that’s exactly why I can’t do it.” Minhyun frowns.

“That’s... offensive. Okay, whatever. I’m just telling you what I’d do. I guess the only thing you _can_ do to help here is to pay the bill. If it’s a real thing and not a scam...”

Minhyun rolls his eyes. “I did look it up, you know. They have a site and lots of... um. Vivid reviews and such. I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” Jinyoung says. “Aha! Got it.” He scribbles down something into his notebook. “I wish you were actually good at school so you could help me do my homework instead of just at venting to me. When will you start paying me to listen?”

“When you start paying me to listen to all of your troubles,” Minhyun replies.

“I don’t have any—”

“You called me a few days ago to talk about your boy troubles—”

“That’s exactly what you’re doing to me right now! You can’t blame me for that.”

Minhyun laughs and reaches over to pinch one of Jinyoung’s cheeks. Jinyoung screams and flails at the same time, knocking over all his homework, his pencil flying across the bed. He flushes instantly, as always, and Minhyun feels a weight lifted off of him.

Yes, teasing Jinyoung really does bring him that much joy in life.

“I just think it’s cute,” Minhyun coos. Jinyoung shifts to the very edge of the bed, away from Minhyun, looking completely exasperated.

“You’re so annoying,” Jinyoung mutters, turning away from him to continue his work. 

Minhyun blows him a kiss and then rolls onto his side. He flips to the facebook application on his phone and continues his search for which guy named Seongwu could be worth $140.

 

 

When he gets back to his apartment, Minhyun does some tongue twisters in front of the mirror while simultaneously scowling at himself over what he’s about to do. These phone calls apparently cost almost $7 per minute, and Minhyun isn’t going to waste time by talking slowly. Practice makes perfect.

After a few minutes, though, he just feels like a weirdo, standing in his bathroom in his pyjamas at 10PM, trying to make his tongue work faster than what’s likely physically possible. Also, his mouth is beginning to seriously hurt. The entire situation is already bizarre enough. This is simply making it worse. He gives up and flops back onto his bed, holding his pillow to his chest and then propping his phone up on top of it.

The unknown number is still in his recent calls. He hovers his index finger over his screen, hesitating for a brief moment, before thinking _fuck it_ and pressing down before he can reason with himself.

The line rings twice before an unfamiliar voice picks up. “Hello?” Definitely a man, but significantly deeper than he remembers Seongwu’s being.

“You’re not Seongwu,” he says.

There’s a brief second of silence before the man speaks. “No. I’m not. Seongwu isn’t working today. But I can still help you,” the man on the other end says, and oh, it hits Minhyun again now that this is a hotline for sex by the way the man’s tone dips into something smooth and sweet. It’s a different kind of sweet from Seongwu’s, though; with Seongwu, he felt like it came naturally. This guy isn’t really doing much for Minhyun. “What do you need, angel?”

Nope.

“Nothing! Nothing,” Minhyun says quickly, remembering he’s paying for every second that passes. “Sorry. Bye.”

He hangs up and throws his phone across the bed, feeling his face burn. He’s such an idiot. What’s wrong with him lately? Obviously calling back the hotline was not the solution to this problem, just like letting Seongwu talk him into using his services was in the first place. This is exactly why he should stop taking advice from his first-year friends.

“Stupid,” Minhyun whispers to himself, rubbing over his face. He deserves to feel so ashamed. “Just pay the bill and move on with your life.”

Technology has never been Minhyun’s forte, but unfortunately he does know enough to pay the bill and watch $139.78 get instantly retracted from his bank account. He’s going to have to call Daniel tomorrow and tell him he can’t treat him later that week, which Minhyun thinks is pretty fair considering Daniel is the one that encouraged him to drink in the first place, but still; it was his birthday _and_ it’s the holidays. It’s the least he could do to cement his position as Daniel’s best hyung.

Alas.

He turns off the lights in his room and makes his bed before diving right back into it to sleep. (It’s a habit and the more his friends call it weird, the more passionately he feels about doing it.) The heavy blankets pool underneath his chin and he purposely pushes his phone as far away as he can on his bedside table so he doesn’t get the urge to reach for it.

Of _course_ , the second he closes his eyes, the darkness leaves a perfect canvas for his imagination to run wild and he thinks about Seongwu.

His train for Busan leaves in ten hours. He has six hours to sleep comfortably before he has to get up and pack. He is _not_ going to spend his entire night turned on and emotionally conflicted over a drunken mistake.

So he does what any rational person would do (because despite all of this, Minhyun is very capable of thinking rationally): he rolls onto his side, shoves his hands down his pants, and jerks off while biting into his knuckles.

He actually puts a tremendous amount of effort into recalling Seongwu’s voice, the sound of his moans, the way he said Minhyun’s name, and he’s not sure how to feel about that last thing sending him over the edge and spilling onto his hand.

 

 

“Hyung,” Daniel greets when Minhyun steps onto the train platform. He’s wearing the scarf Minhyun got him for his birthday, likely for show to make Minhyun happy (it works). He has the mind to look sheepish when Minhyun takes his place beside him, clutching his bags by his feet. “Um, sorry for...”

Minhyun puts his hand on Daniel’s arm to quiet him, shaking his head. “It’s fine.”

“No, I—I talked to Jisung hyung about it. And I was wrong. I know I didn’t force you, but... I shouldn’t have pressured you. I’m sorry.” Daniel ducks his head, quite possibly sulking. Minhyun tries not to crack a smile. “I won’t do it again,” he says.

“Daniel, seriously. It’s fine. You’re right. You didn’t force me. It was my choice, okay? And it taught me to never drink that much again,” Minhyun laughs. Daniel lifts his head, lower lip jutting out into a pout, before he understands Minhyun is being honest. He cracks a small, tentative smile. “But I don’t think I can afford to take you out again this week.”

“Okay,” he says. “I understand. Maybe we can just walk around or something one day.”

They board the train together and find a quiet spot near the back of one of the carts. Daniel spends most of his time watching a movie on his iPad, and Minhyun takes advantage of the free wi-fi to read the news. And look up some more guys named Seongwu on facebook. He might be slightly obsessive over this, but he is genuinely curious. It’s difficult to match a voice to a face with no other info, though, so he gives up after a few minutes and streams one of his favourite shows.

By the time they arrive in Busan, both of their families are already there. Minhyun drags his luggage onto the platform and gives Daniel a big hug.

“I’ll see you later this week?” he says.

“Uh-huh.” Daniel hugs him back tightly, nearly lifting him off the ground. He really is like a big puppy. Minhyun’s grateful for his friends like Daniel who are just as affectionate as he is—even if he can be a little silly sometimes. Minhyun truly doesn’t blame him for his mistakes. It’s not as if Daniel was the one that made him call Seongwu. “Thanks for coming with me, hyung.”

Minhyun kisses his finger then pats Daniel’s cheek with it, making Daniel giggle. “Anytime, Niel.”

Daniel waves another goodbye and then runs off to meet his mother. Minhyun fixes the collar on his jacket, ensures his jacket cuffs are proper, and then goes to find his own family.

Minhyun loves his family. Truly. They’re, on average, incredibly supportive. They aided him financially when he started university. They send him little gifts throughout the year and he sends them cute animal videos in return to their group chat every so often.

But he has not been looking forward to this meeting.

“Minhyunnie!” his mom waves. Two girls walking by jump back, thinking she’s talking to them, before Minhyun enters their vision. “Oh, it’s been so long. Come here and give me a hug!”

He does so. His mom squeezes the life out of him, his dad gives him a much less deathly hug, and his sister, Sujin, ruffles his hair.

“Hi,” he says, ducking his head. “I missed you too.”

“Then you should visit more!” His mom scowls. 

“I told you, I’ve been super busy lately.” Minhyun tries to keep his words gentle as to not bring up any more complaints. “But I’m here now.”

“Indeed. And how grateful I am for that.” His mom wraps her arm around his waist as they walk back to the car. Sujin tells them about some of her most recent work in detail, though they text often so it’s not anything he doesn’t already have an idea of. Minhyun listens to as much as he can, but he ends up nodding off with his cheek squished against the window somewhere during the drive home.

Minhyun makes a soundless exit from his family’s conversation when they get home under the guise of unpacking. He’s only back for a few days, and so there isn’t a lot; his childhood bedroom is still in the exact same layout it was in when he left almost seven years ago. Minhyun gazes over the boyband posters and a signed Transformers poster he got when he was ten years old with a smile. He misses having time to be so _into_ stuff.

While re-folding his shirts to put into his dresser, he hears a knock on the door.

“Minhyun?” Sujin says.

“Noona.” Minhyun drops the shirt and stands back up, wiping the dust off of his knees. “Sorry I ducked out, I just...”

“It’s okay. I understand,” Sujin lets out a small, somewhat pained chuckle. At least they’re both in this together. “They already tried to ask me about you.”

“Oh no,” Minhyun says in a joking way, but his heart jumps to his throat in a not-so-fun way when he hears those words. “Like...?”

“Just if you’re seeing anyone. When are you graduating. About your work. Stuff like that.” Sujin leans against Minhyun’s dresser and Minhyun goes back to folding his clothes. He finds it relaxing, but knowing that his parents are downstairs _right now_ gossiping about his life leaves him uneasy. The edges on his shirts don’t get tucked in as nicely as he usually does it. After a few moments of watching him, Sujin continues, “They really wish you would call them more.”

“I don’t call them because they only ask me stuff like that,” Minhyun mumbles. He does feel bad hearing about other people with their parents (especially Daniel, who calls his mom literally every single day), but it’s not the same. It’s a lot easier to put down the phone and distract himself whenever he thinks about calling than listen to his parents ramble on about his future.

Sujin takes a step forward and kneels down beside him. He’s the tallest in his family, but also the youngest, and he feels a bit like a kid again when she puts a hand on his shoulder and speaks softly. “I know it sucks. But they’re our parents, Minhyunnie. You can’t ignore them forever. A few awkward conversations isn’t worth a bad relationship with them.”

Minhyun’s shoulders slump under her touch. He wipes at his eyes—he didn’t even know he was tearing up—and nods.

“My poor baby brother,” Sujin laughs, hugging him loosely. “Everyone has to deal with those kinds of questions. It’s not as bad as it seems, I promise.”

“Not everyone,” Minhyun sighs. “You don’t.”

“I’m just lucky I found a partner and a job before they could start.” She winks at him and Minhyun’s nose crinkles. “You’re still young. They’ll grow out of it eventually once you settle down.”

“Okay,” Minhyun says, and hopes that she’s right.

They go through something like this every time Minhyun visits which, as it has stood for the past few years, isn’t often. The whole situation feels like a volcano waiting to erupt. He finishes folding his clothes after Sujin leaves and then spends a good half an hour lying in his perfectly-made bed, looking at random stuff on his phone to calm himself down.

Family dinners are the first obstacle of visiting. Everything else tends to be smoother riding, since the dinner is when his parents whip out the most uncomfortable questions on him. He helps his mom make the food while his dad and Sujin holler at something on the TV. 

“It feels like home again,” his mom sighs while stirring the soup. Minhyun smiles at her, but it doesn’t spread across his face. He doesn’t trust his voice at the moment, so he simply pats her arm instead.

The food is always good, at least, regardless of the atmosphere—his mom always makes a variety of dishes, from traditional food to Sujin’s favourite Chinese dishes. The mixture of smells, all pleasant and inviting, take a bit of tension out of Minhyun’s tired body as he slides into his usual place at the table.

“Let’s pray first,” his dad says, and they clasp hands.

Minhyun knows he’s supposed to be praying for the food, but he can’t help but slip in a _please let this dinner go well so my parents don’t slowly begin to hate me even more._

The food is passed around the table, and Minhyun is offered way more side dishes than he could ever need by both his parents. 

“You should eat too, mom,” Minhyun laughs, rejecting yet another extra portion from her.

“You’ve lost weight since I last saw you,” his mom worries. “Though that was over a year ago now...”

Minhyun bites the inside of his cheek and twirls his chopsticks into his rice. Sujin narrows his eyes at him and appears to be telepathically trying to tell him something, but Minhyun can’t tell whether she’s urging him to continue the conversation or just drop it.

“But don’t mind that,” his dad says before Minhyun can decide. “What have you been doing lately?”

“Just working, mostly,” Minhyun says. Neither of his parents say anything back, so Minhyun assumes he’s being forced to elaborate. This is Sujin’s fault for being so open with her life—she’s set the standard too high for him. “I’m doing the lighting for a drama being filmed in Seoul, the week after New Year’s. Should be fun.”

“Just the lighting?” his mom asks, which translates to _Why have you not become a famous actor yet?_ as if it’s easy to act _and_ become famous.

“I have to start somewhere,” Minhyun sighs. He would gladly take any acting jobs, if they existed, but the market is already oversaturated enough without him. “I apply to as much as I can. This job is through the company, not independent.”

“So you’re making even less money for it?” his dad interjects. Minhyun’s grip on the chopsticks tighten. Sujin kicks him under the table.

His one wish is that his parents would _trust him_. It’s not like Minhyun is calling them every week for money (that would involve _actually_ calling them every week, which he’s established thus far is not happening); he’s doing fine for himself, all things considered. “I’m making enough money to get by.”

“Get by?” his mom practically snaps. Minhyun drops his chopsticks in surprise. “You’ve had this job for almost two years, my little baby... you should be making much more! Haven’t you made any connections? I just worry so much for you...”

“Please don’t call me a baby,” Minhyun says, strained. He doesn’t mind being babied by his family, but not in this context. “You don’t need to worry about me, okay? Really. I’m doing fine. I’m living comfortably, mom.”

His mom continues as if she didn’t hear him, and Minhyun tries not to sink into his seat. “And what about Jieun? What happened there? She was so nice, and successful too. You didn’t even call us about that. Sujin-ah had to tell us.”

“Jieun cheated on me,” Minhyun hisses. “I couldn’t stay with her, mom.”

“I didn’t say you had to stay with her,” his mom sniffles. “As I said, my little baby, I’m only worried for you. Everyone always said you were such a bright kid. You were even voted ‘most likely to succeed by twenty-five’, remember?” As if Minhyun could ever forget. “But you haven’t even gotten one role yet.” _As if Minhyun could ever forget_.

“Okay, okay!” Sujin (lightly) slams her fist onto the table to quiet them. “Um. Why don’t we talk about something else. Please?”

“Please,” his dad repeats. “Anything fun you’ve been doing lately, Minhyun? Daniel’s mom told us that you guys had a party?”

Minhyun’s ears go red and he tries to cover them with his hair as smoothly as possible. “Um, yeah. We just drank a bit at his place. It wasn’t too exciting.”

“You? Drink?” Sujin laughs loudly. 

Minhyun picks his chopsticks back up and starts eating again, letting the sweet tastes calm his throat. “Only a little.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so adverse to alcohol. Maybe that’s one of the issues you’re having in making connections? Lots of businesses host get-togethers at bars. It could be a good place to meet someone,” his mom pipes up. Unnecessarily, at that.

Minhyun grimances. “Are you telling me that for my job or because you want me to date again?” His tone comes off as harsher than he intended, but he’s getting increasingly more frustrated by her comments.

“I only tell you these things because I care, my little baby,” she says. Minhyun chokes on his food.

“I told you not to call me that. Please, mom.” He can’t even bring himself to eat anymore, no matter how good it is. 

“You’re my baby and I’ll call you whatever I want!” she stabs her chopsticks into her rice. It feels like a physical stab to his heart. “I don’t appreciate you talking back to me.”

Minhyun’s chair makes a disgusting screeching noise when he shoves it out. “I’m not trying to _talk back_ , I—” he tries, but as usual, his voice isn’t heard.

“You two,” his dad says, motioning for Minhyun to sit back down. “Please. It’s Christmas Eve. Can we not get along for one day?”

“Minhyunnie,” Sujin whispers, glaring him down, and Minhyun feels a distinct pang of betrayal at her taking their mom’s side. Even Sujin is willing to put up with this in order to keep the facade. But Minhyun is so fucking _tired._

“I’m sorry. I just—I’m tired, okay? I’ve worked a lot lately. And please don’t tell me it’s not worth it. I just... need to rest tonight. Maybe I shouldn’t be here right now. I’m sorry,” he says and throws down his napkin before thinking twice. 

“Minhyun!” Sujin and his dad call out at the same time (in very different pitches), but Minhyun is already racing up the stairs.

He’s lucky his parents let him have a lock on his door when he was a kid. He screws it shut and slides down onto the floor, ducking his head into his arms.

No wonder his mom is so on his case. He can’t even complete one family dinner with blowing up from stress.

The walls in their house are thin, and he can hear his parents telling Sujin to drop it. He’ll come around. Just let him sulk. He’s still a child. Minhyun presses his fingers to his eyelids and this time, he’s well aware he’s on the way to crying.

His friends would be horrified if they saw him like this. Minhyun prides himself on being calm even in the most tense situations, but something about the pressures his family puts on him is different. Instead of giving him an anxiety he can shove down, it makes him angry. 

_You better not pull something like that tomorrow_ , a text from Sujin says. And then immediately after, _I’m taking them out so you can have some peace and quiet. Call me if you need me._

Minhyun waits, on the floor, listening to them put away the leftovers and attempt to not talking about what just happened (and fail). A few tears end up slipping down Minhyun’s cheeks, but he’s not much of a crier, and after a while, his sadness turns into exhaustion again.

The front door shuts. It’s only been twenty minutes, and yet it felt like two hours. He gets off the floor, his legs hurting from how much he was straining himself, even while sitting, and moves to his bed.

Rolling onto his back, his first instinct is to call someone. But he’s not going to disturb any of his friends’ own plans with their family—and he couldn’t, even if they were available. His friends depend on him to be the one to go to for advice, and they already had to deal with him fucking up the other day. He refuses to burden anyone on a holiday.

One free, non-judgmental person comes to mind.

“Shut up,” he tells himself, right when the idea pops up. However, he ends up going onto the contact page of the hotline anyways. “This is such a bad idea.”

Except it’s not. Even if someone else picks up, it’s still a real person. If they’re working on Christmas Eve, maybe they have family issues too. They can form some kind of pact. 

Aside from the fact it costs an absolutely insane amount per minute. But it’s Christmas, he’s allowed to treat himself; and a little part of himself hopes that it is Seongwu that answers the line. Plus, he’s practiced talking really fast quite a bit over the past few days. He’s practically a professional at it now.

“Don’t do this,” Minhyun keeps muttering to himself, even as he taps on the ‘call’ button. It rings twice, like before, and Minhyun is unsure if anyone is even on the end when it picks up. A long pause occurs before Minhyun clears his throat and speaks up, “Hi.”

All his plans of talking really fast to avoid a high bill get knocked out the window when he hears Seongwu’s voice on the other end.

“Hi, baby,” Seongwu says. 

Minhyun presses his forehead against his arm. A rush of cool air runs down Minhyun’s back. This is bad. This is _really_ bad. Why is he so interested in some guy he doesn’t even know? Some guy he doesn’t even know the _appearance_ of. Yeah, Seongwu might have a hot voice, but what if he’s ugly in real life?

At least he tries to tell himself that. He just knows it’s not true, and the message doesn’t set in properly. Like with the first call, he wonders if he should hang up while he’s ahead, but this time he’s determined to use this service for something useful. 

Sujin always told him not to bottle up his feelings. This isn’t what she meant, but it’s the best he can do. He’s trying his best here, truly.

“You still there?”

“Yeah, uh, sorry.” Minhyun lifts his head and hold the phone next to his ear. “It’s me. From the other night.”

“I know.” Seongwu does his trademark chuckle that sends Minhyun’s heart doing backflips. “I could tell. You’re not very easy to forget, you know? But some people don’t like continuity between calls.”

“Oh.” 

The line goes silent. This seems to happen a lot. Minhyun has never been very good at talking on the phone; not being able to touch or see the person he’s talking to doesn’t exactly appeal to the overwhelming part of him that loves both those things. 

“So, what do you want to do?” Seongwu asks, and then before Minhyun can answer, he continues, “Do you have lube today?”

“What, I.” Minhyun blinks at his sheets, desperately trying not to stutter into his phone. Hwang Minhyun does _not_ stutter. He hasn’t had a sip of alcohol today; he has no excuse for how he’s acting. 

“What ‘what’? Don’t tell me you called for something other than sex.” Seongwu says, sounding quite disappointed with him. “I mean, I’ll still stay on the line with you if you aren’t, because I like you. But I was kind of looking forward to fucking you.”

“Fuck—ing, oh my god,” Minhyun whispers, hiding his mouth behind his hand. His brain essentially short circuit at that, from the words _fucking_ and _you_ with _you_ meaning _him_ coming from Seongwu’s mouth. 

“Do you normally get flustered so easily?” Seongwu says, amused. “Before you get defensive, I do genuinely think it’s cute.”

“I’m not—okay. I got a $140 phone bill for our last call. I can’t afford that tonight. It’s Christmas Eve, I have to be frugal,” Minhyun says. It’s a much better excuse than the one he gave the other night.

Seongwu hums. “Isn’t it the other way around? You’re supposed to be treating yourself on Christmas Eve,” Seongwu says, reading his mind from earlier. “Personally, I think having sex is a great way to spend the holidays. I daresay even the best way.”

“That’s because you get to pocket my $140-plus,” Minhyun grumbles, well aware that this conversation is only adding to the bill. But he can’t hang up now until he proves to Seongwu that he isn’t as pliant as he thinks he is.

Minhyun can almost hear Seongwu roll his eyes in the way he sighs. “Tell you what, Minhyunnie.” He puts Minhyun on speaker and he can hear the familiar tapping of a keyboard. “I’ll give you a discount. Spreading the Christmas cheer and all.”

“Seriously?” Minhyun says, and he can’t help the surprise that slips into his tone.

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve told you like ten times now. I like you.” Minhyun flushes at those words even though he’s aware they do _not_ mean the way they sound. “I’d rather get paid dirt to talk to you than get paid a ton to pretend to be another old guy’s sexy space cadet.”

Minhyun giggles despite himself. “Is that common?”

“You have no idea,” Seongwu says, completely exasperated. “Think of it as my treat to myself. And you. We all win.”

Minhyun mulls it over; quickly, though, because he’s still paying as he thinks. “How much?”

“Free.”

“You’re not serious,” Minhyun says.

“Dead serious,” Seongwu answers, and he certainly sounds so. “I just took you off our main line and onto a private one.”

Minhyun takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair, and _fuck_. He’s really doing this, isn’t he? He’s about to vent his problems to a sex hotline operator. But it’s not like he has anything to lose this time, if it’s free and his door is locked. 

“Okay, Seongwu,” Minhyun says. “I guess... I’ll stay on the line.”

Seongwu cheers on the other end. Minhyun imagines him pumping his fists into the air where no one can see (or he could be in a cubicle in an office, Minhyun has no idea and he wants to ask now.) Setting his phone down gently, he double-checks to make sure that his door is properly locked, _just in case_ , before returning to his bed.

“Okay, so, my problem is—” Minhyun gets only a few words in before Seongwu interrupts him.

“Whoa. Whoa, hold up. Don’t tell me you _actually_ called for something other than sex. I was joking.” When Minhyun doesn’t reply, he chokes. “Seriously?”

“You said you listen to people vent sometimes. The other day. Am I not included in that?” Minhyun says.

“Well... no, you are. It’s a step-up from paying me to facebook message someone, I guess, but... listen, is it really that important of an issue?” Seongwu still sounds so serious speaking, and Minhyun finds himself unable to make a snarky reply back.

“Not really,” he says carefully. “It’s just, um. Family stuff.”

“Oh, okay then. Let’s fuck first, and then after we can talk if you still feel like it’s important, alright?”

This, Minhyun can’t help his reply to. “My feelings are important.”

“You’re right,” Seongwu says, and thankfully laughs at that. He’s beginning to look forward to Seongwu’s giggles, even though he’s only heard it a grand total of like six times. Shit, he really is becoming whipped for a voice over the phone. “That’s why I’m suggesting it. Venting can be nice, yeah, but it can also just make you worked up over a problem that you’ll realize later is silly. There’s no better way than to de-stress than to fuck.”

Minhyun shakes his head. “You’re really good with words, you know?”

“Poetry minor,” Seongwu quips. Minhyun’s brain files this precious personal info into his new Seongwu folder at the speed of light. “So, you never answered me. You got any lube with you?”

He supposes they’re doing this, then.

“... Yeah,” Minhyun says.

“I knew you were smart,” Seongwu says, pleased. “Go get it and take off your clothes while you’re at it. If you’re wearing some.”

“I literally just left a family dinner. Of course I’m wearing clothes,” Minhyun says. He takes out the lube from where he hid it in his bedside drawer (he doesn’t even know why he brought it—his subconscious must be working against him here) and then starts to take off his shirt.

“I don’t know what kind of family you have. Maybe you’re nudists.”

Minhyun snorts. His fingers hesitate at the waistband of his jeans, but Seongwu did tell him to take off his clothes. He throws them to the base of his bed. “Done.”

“So.” Seongwu thinks for a moment, and Minhyun props himself up on his elbows near his phone. “You said you finger yourself sometimes.”

Minhyun covers his blushing cheeks with his palm, despite no one being able to see. “I sure did.”

“Don’t talk back to me,” Seongwu says. Minhyun doesn’t understand how those words can be so aggravating from his parents, but from Seongwu, it makes him want to roll over and listen to whatever he has to say.

“Fine,” Minhyun murmurs. “Sometimes, yeah. Not as much lately. I’ve been really busy with work and school.”

“That’s okay. We’ll take it slow. Just lie down and touch your chest for now. Run your hands along your stomach, squeeze your nipples, let your muscles relax and your back arch...”

Minhyun feels his body go hot all over, and his dick stirs in interest in his boxers. Doing as Seongwu says comes naturally to him (the thought briefly makes him nauseous realizing how easy he’s being, but he attributes this trait to how good Seongwu is at this, not any part of Minhyun’s personality), and his hands roam over his own body.

“I’d kiss you, too, as you do it, even if I was just watching, because the sight of you touching yourself is too much to resist.”

Minhyun opens his mouth, almost disappointed when Seongwu doesn’t magically appear beside him and kiss him right there and then. He licks his lips and his teeth instead, and moans when he rolls one nipple underneath his thumb.

“Seongwu,” Minhyun says, the rise and fall of his chest feeling like an enormous weight. One of his hands moves down to palm at the front of his boxers. 

“Keep saying my name,” Seongwu whispers, and when Minhyun closes his eyes, he can imagine Seongwu watching him.

“ _Seongwu_ ,” Minhyun moans again, putting more pressure on his dick.

“Are you hard?” Seongwu asks.

“Yes,” Minhyun hisses. He pulls back the waistband of his boxers to touch himself properly. It’s terrifying how fast Seongwu gets him riled up, and every sweet word Seongwu gives him only urges him on. It’s like his body has a mind of its own, but his brain isn’t too far behind. 

“Keep going, then. Rub yourself slowly, you don’t want to get too worked up before the main event.” 

“Mhm,” Minhyun hums in acknowledgement, already doing as Seongwu says. His fingers fit around his cock, and he moves his boxers off his legs with his other hand so he can touch himself properly. Exposed to the air, he can rub his dick against his thigh, and he whimpers loudly.

“Sweetest noise I’ve ever heard,” Seongwu says. “You’re so desperate already.”

“Stop teasing me,” Minhyun whines; he attempts to get the words out in a normal voice, but he can’t stop rutting against himself, and the little bursts of pleasure in his gut are making it difficult.

“I’ll fuck you good, baby,” Seongwu says in his lowest voice (which is becoming Minhyun’s favourite, along with his laugh.) The words should sound sleazy, but they _don’t_ , miraculously, to Minhyun’s stupidly turned-on body. “Grab the lube. Spread some on your fingers and your hole.”

Minhyun scrambles to grab the bottle. With an unsteady grip, he takes off the cap and pours it carefully over himself. He should’ve put a towel on the bed to prevent a mess, but it’s too late now, and not even a pressing need to keep his space clean can stop him from listening to Seongwu.

“Finger yourself for me. Stretch yourself out well,” Seongwu orders.

He spreads some of the lube over his ass before circling his hole with his middle finger. It gives some resistance as he presses in, but the copious amounts of lube and the imagery of _Seongwu_ being the one to do this to him makes the glide in easier. He marvels at how tight he is and wonders if Seongwu would be as appreciative of it.

He shoves his finger in further and then crooks it upwards. Despite how many weeks it’s been, he’s fingered himself more than enough times to know where his prostate is, and he doesn’t need more than a brush to get himself quivering.

“You really are so needy,” Seongwu murmurs. 

Minhyun moans and turns onto all fours so he can get at his hole better. Lube falls all over the bed, but all he can think about is how much deeper he can get in this position. 

“Do you only have one finger inside right now?”

“Y—Yes,” Minhyun says.

“Put another one in, then.” Minhyun gathers up some of the excess lube on his index finger and then thrusts it inside himself, not hesitating this time. “You’ll need a lot more than that to take my dick.”

Minhyun rocks back onto his digits, cautious to not give himself too much stimulation. Even the light touches are making him dizzy, however, and this time, he can be as loud as he wants; small, high gasps slip from his mouth and he doesn’t think about stopping them.

“Whatever you’re feeling—” Seongwu says as Minhyun digs his fingers in deeper, deeper, his blood running hot while Seongwu speaks. “—It’s nothing compared to how you’ll feel when I fuck you.”

“Seongwu,” Minhyun breathes. “ _Don’t_ —say that, when you can’t actually fuck me, please, I can’t take it—”

“What? You think I can’t fuck you from here?” Seongwu laughs, but it’s not like his other laughs. Minhyun rests his head against the bed, his fingers going still inside himself. He tries to follow what Seongwu might do; edging Minhyun slowly, because that’s what Minhyun likes, that’s what Seongwu said to do earlier. _Take it slow_. His cock rubs against his belly, achingly hard. “I think I’m fucking you pretty good, judging by how wrecked you sound. Press in another.”

A third finger makes things a bit more snug, but Minhyun presses in, relentless against the tightness until it’s inside. Earnestly, he brings his phone closer so Seongwu can hear him pant.

“Good boy,” Seongwu says. Minhyun shivers pleasantly. He didn’t know he had a kink for that before this, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it, and Seongwu has opened his eyes to a lot of new things already.

He drives his fingers in, deliberately hasty and missing his prostate with every other flick of his wrist. It keeps him whimpering, and Seongwu’s small moans on the other end stop him from just giving in and touching his cock to cum. This is what Seongwu asked for.

“You’re getting off again,” Minhyun says, strained, and it’s not a question.

“I couldn’t resist—not with such a pretty thing under me,” Seongwu replies. Minhyun chokes; he’s been called pretty before, but not like _this_ , and his dick rubs against his sheets, spreading pre-cum everywhere.

Minhyun has to hold onto his pillow so he doesn’t jerk himself off. His self-control is impressing even himself.

“You think you can cum only from my fingers?” Seongwu says, and the way he says my fingers makes Minhyun so dizzy his legs give out momentarily, his fingers slipping out. He struggles to prop himself back up, thrusting them all in at once, his hole wide and gaping now from the constant stimulation.

“I don’t know,” Minhyun says, then rubs against his prostate. Pre-cum spurts from his dick and Minhyun bites down on his lip. “ _Yes_ , fuck, yes, I can, please,” Minhyun gasps.

“Most pitiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Seongwu says, almost _tenderly_ , and it sends something else trembling through Minhyun. “Cum then, baby. Don’t keep yourself waiting.”

Chasing the intense feeling of pleasure and now a strange kind of warmth, he focuses in on Seongwu’s panting on the other end and the incessant press of his digits. He shuts his eyes and it’s only when he really imagines it’s Seongwu that the sensation sends him over the edge, his entire being tensing, from his mind to his body to his voice. He can’t _breathe_ in that moment.

“Shit,” Seongwu groans, as Minhyun’s voice breaks. No words leave his lips as he cums, so much his thighs physically hurt. He pulls his fingers out himself, winded, his vision spinning before him. His heart is pounding so fast from the aftershocks he barely can register Seongwu’s moan of his name over the noise of it.

He falls onto the bed, on his stomach, the adrenaline seeping out of him and leaving him dry and so completely, wholly satisfied.

“Damn it, Minhyun,” Seongwu says. “If you keep giving me the best phone sex of my life, I’m going to have to actually keep you.” His voice is unsteady.

“I should say that to you,” Minhyun somehow manages to reply among the thousand things he’s feeling. He moves onto his back and sits up against his headboard. “I barely—I barely did anything, really.”

“Don’t undermine how beautiful your voice is,” Seongwu jokes. “I told you that already.” Minhyun covers his smile with his palm and shakes his head.

Seongwu is incredible, how he can give Minhyun the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life (beating out his own previous record) and then make him blush not even two minutes later. 

When he was a kid, he was addicted to transformers. It was a silly obsession, but it absolutely consumed his life for a solid year. He would ask his parents for every new toy, consume every piece of media he could get his hands on, and cry when he missed out on any limited edition opportunities.

This addiction is far worse than that. He’s already thinking about the next time he calls Seongwu, now with the hope that he won’t have to pay. The ease at which he talks down to Minhyun, and then the strangely gentle way he can twist his words right after; Seongwu makes him feel so comfortable. 

He nearly apologizes to Seongwu for _not_ paying.

“So, about your problem...” Seongwu prompts, once he regains his breath.

Minhyun absolutely loathes saying this, because it means Seongwu was right, but he doesn’t feel like talking about his issue with his family anymore. His biggest problem right now is in fact that Seongwu isn’t literally in his room and about to fuck him for real.

“It’s fine,” Minhyun says. His legs feel like jelly as he forces himself off the bed. He has to steady himself with one hand on his bedside table, lest he fall over. “It’s—all good, now. I think I just want to sleep.”

“I told you so,” Seongwu says smugly. “Trust me more, Minhyunnie. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“That’s a little difficult when I know nothing about you.” Minhyun smiles at the phone. He expects Seongwu to laugh too, but he doesn’t, and Minhyun quickly begins to fix himself by gathering his discarded clothes. “Uh, well...”

“Sleep now, right? Me too, probably,” Seongwu says.

“Oh. Okay. Yeah, I—need to shower too, honestly. Before my family gets back.”

“Mmm,” Seongwu hums. “I understand. Trust me.”

Minhyun really doesn’t know what to say to that other than ‘Yeah’ again. He decides on, “I can’t afford the regular rate, but... if I call back on Sunday, will you be here?”

“I can’t make any promises. I have a life too, but—I can try, yeah. And I won’t make you pay the regular rate, sweetheart.” Minhyun knows he’s smiling on the other end. Minhyun doesn’t mind the pet name if it makes Seongwu so happy. “Don’t worry.”

“Okay.” Minhyun brushes his fringe off his forehead, nodding to himself. “Sunday night, then. See you... later, I guess,” he ends ineloquently.

“Wait,” Seongwu interjects. “Merry Christmas.”

“Huh? Oh—” Minhyun picks up his phone and glances at the time. It’s nearly fifteen minutes past midnight. The biggest holiday of the year, brought in with some intense phone sex. Rather than feeling miffed at how strange and out of control his life has come, he finds himself excited over Seongwu giving him such a personal sentiment. “Thank you, Seongwu. Merry Christmas to you too.”

“Thanks,” Seongwu says. “Have a good one today. Don’t drink again. Sunday at night, I won’t forget.”

“I won’t. You too.” Minhyun grins at his phone until Seongwu hangs up, then has the best shower and subsequent clean-up of his life, humming to himself all the while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter will... not come out as fast as this one, because i'm busier this week than i was last week. but i promise i'm working on it! and i have some other completed fics in my gdrive to post as well. 
> 
> please leave a comment if you liked it... they really encourage me! thank you so much for reading!
> 
> twitter: [@btajhs](https://twitter.com/btajhs) cc: [btajh](http://curiouscat.me/btajh)


	3. Chapter 3

“Hi, hyung!” Daniel beams when they meet up two days later. He’s bundled up in hefty layers, like Minhyun, with a mask covering his lower face. His eyes give always his wide smile anyways. “Can we go inside first?”

“Yeah,” Minhyun replies, taking Daniel’s sleeve. The café they picked is one they used to regular when they were younger, but Minhyun hasn’t been here in a while. Not since he last saw his parents, or maybe even earlier than that. “I just need to read over the menu again. You can go ahead.”

“‘Kay.” Stepping into the line, Minhyun surveys the board before settling on something warm and sweet. Smiling at the girl working at the register, he holds back a sigh when he sees the price. He forgot how expensive this place was; judging by Daniel’s guilty expression, he forgot as well. Oh well.

They grab a table near the back, far away from the door and the wind blowing outside. Another girl brings their drinks to them a few moments later and Minhyun shrugs off his jacket and scarf, happy to get the extra weight off him.

“Cheers!” Daniel says, pushing their glasses together to make a ‘clink’. Minhyun laughs and takes a sip of his white mocha; it goes down smooth with just the right sweetness. He deserves this after the hell of the past few days. “So, what’s up? You seem kinda down.

Minhyun swirls his drink around, focused on the dark mix of the espresso and the mocha rather than Daniel’s earnest face. “I’m okay, it’s just my family. You know how they are.” He sniffles from the cool air. “They’re being... themselves. They keep asking me about stuff. Lots of stuff.”

“Like what?” Daniel prompts, ever the good listener.

“My job. Or lack of job, in their eyes.”

“But you have a job,” Daniel says, confused.

Minhyun laughs dryly. “Yeah, I do. But it’s not good enough for them, I guess.”

“Well, it’s not their job, so they can take their opinion and shove it,” Daniel huffs and takes a sip of his drink before slamming it down dramatically. “Do you want me to ask my mom to talk to them?”

“No!” Minhyun says immediately, blanching at the thought. His sister would kill him. Besides, even if their parents are close, Minhyun’s mom is far too stubborn to change her view just because Daniel’s mom makes a few valid points. “No,” he repeats in a quieter tone. “It’s okay, Niel. But thank you for asking. I’m not too bothered by it. It’s annoying when we’re together but we’ll be back home soon, so.”

“And then you can go back to ignoring their calls,” Daniel finishes.

“Exactly.”

“I can’t blame you, but...” Daniel bites the inside of his cheek, thinking. “The whole situation sucks. Is it only that? Your job?”

“And Jieun.” Minhyun scowls at his glass when he says her name. He can’t believe his parents had the audacity to imply that he should still be together with his cheating ex instead of happy and single. Or relatively happy and single. Either way, it’s better than being with her. 

Daniel seems to be able to tell, because he reaches over the table and pats Minhyun’s hand with his own. “They’re old, they don’t understand.”

“I know.” Minhyun takes a deep breath. Even his sister can’t understand, at least not in the way he wants her to. She has a perfect relationship and a perfect job already. She’s never had to deal with their parents hounding her, not like this. “It’s okay,” he says for the third time.

“Okay...” Daniel keeps their hands together in an attempt to comfort him. “Um...”

Minhyun lifts his head finally and smiles. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so negative. Thanks for letting me vent.”

“No, no! It’s fine, hyung, I’m just thinking that... have you thought about dating? Since then? At all?” Daniel asks. 

Slipping his hand out from underneath Daniel’s, his frown returns, though it’s more like a disgruntled pout. “No, not really. But I’ve been working a lot lately. I don’t need a partner right now.”

“But you’re always so stressed! I think it’d help to have someone to rely on. Someone closer than us—your best friends, at least. Or, well, not closer, but it’s a different kind of relationship, y’know?”

“Just because you’re going through a honeymoon phase with your crush doesn’t mean that I need to as well.” Daniel flushes, straightening up and ready to protest Minhyun’s accusation, but Minhyun keeps talking. “It’s not because of Jieun or anything. I haven’t found the time, or the person. No one’s interested me.”

“Really?”

“... Why do you sound so surprised by that?” 

“You just... I don’t want to sound like...” Daniel fumbles through his words. “You fall for people so... easily.”

“I do not,” Minhyun says, and this time he’s ready to protest Daniel’s accusation. “I just happened to meet a lot of really nice people in a really short period of time a few years ago and now you won’t let go of the idea that I’m easy.”

“That’s not what I said!” Daniel gasps, scandalized, eyes as wide as saucers. “I’m not talking about—about sex, hyung! Or anything close to that!”

Minhyun laughs loudly out of nowhere. Daniel gets flustered so easily. “I know. But no, I really haven’t met anyone.”

Daniel quiets down, shoulders slumping, and he almost looks sad at Minhyun’s admission. “I should’ve had you sign up for a dating site the other night.”

“At your place?”

“That was probably the only time I’ll ever see you drunk,” Daniel sighs, forlorn at his lost opportunity. “But it’s okay. I’ll find you a good partner!”

“Wait.” Minhyun narrows his eyes at him. “No, Daniel. You’re not going to find me a partner. Do you remember what happened the last time you tried to set me up with someone?”

Daniel stares at him wordlessly, the picture of innocence. But Minhyun knows Daniel knows.

“That’s what I thought.”

“He wasn’t that bad...” Daniel mumbles. 

“He named his dick ‘The Big Shot’ and then made cheering noises when he came.”

“I—Okay,” Daniel amends. “Maybe that guy wasn’t very good. But the next one will be! I promise. Pinky promise.” He holds out his pinky.

“If you can find me someone tall, lean, with a nice voice, equally as romantic as I am, willing to dessert hop at 2AM, plays at least two instruments, isn’t an engineer, names their genitals _tastefully_ , _and_ is the same age as me, then I’ll consider it.”

“I know you’re just being difficult on purpose, but I will accept this challenge.” He waves his pinky around. Minhyun rolls his his eyes and accepts it. Daniel shakes their pinkies wildly, bright smile back. 

“Good luck,” Minhyun says, genuinely, because at this point, he’s ninety-nine percent sure his perfect match just doesn’t exist. Everyone touted him and Jieun as being the perfect couple, and look how that turned out.

The conversation lapses to Daniel’s Christmas with his mom and their three cats, and Minhyun’s more than happy to get off the topic of his life troubles. All of them. He knows Daniel means well, and he is one of the sweetest people Minhyun’s ever met, but the thought of another failed relationship right now makes him nauseous. He doesn’t need that stress mounting on top of everything else. 

He absently thinks of Seongwu then, recalling how easily he calmed Minhyun down before. Yeah, he definitely doesn’t need an actual relationship to relieve his tension.

Daniel shows him a flurry of pictures and videos of his cats and Minhyun coos at the appropriate times. He should’ve added that into his list of requirements; likes animals, that is, because excessively hating cute fluffy beings is a big dealbreaker. He doubts Daniel knows anyone who genuinely hates animals though. He would fight them, not befriend them.

Their drinks are eventually finished and the café gets busier as the day moves into the afternoon. Once they see the line up at the register, they grab their stuff and return outside to the chill and frost.

“Thanks for today,” Daniel says. “Woojin and I are gonna go see a movie on Sunday before we go back, do you wanna join us?”

“What time?” He only has one thing planned that day, but it’s not something he can miss. Nothing short of a national emergency could tempt him away from his call with Seongwu on Sunday.

“The eight-thirty show, I think. I’ll ask him to grab another ticket if you want!”

“Sorry, I can’t,” Minhyun apologizes. “I have plans already.” 

“Oh.” Daniel reaches over and hugs him. “That’s fine. Have fun with whatever it is! I’ll see you next week then.”

“Thanks.” Minhyun hugs him back and then releases him with a sincere smile. “See you, Niel.”

 

 

Minhyun sort of zones out after he sees Daniel until Sunday. It’s the only way he can handle his family, and he daydreams the entire time about what Seongwu is going to say to him. What he’s going to do. It can’t come fast enough.

He waits until his parents go out and Sujin is in her own room talking away to her boyfriend before he calls. It’s almost ten and he hopes that Seongwu is still around; he still has no idea what his hours are or even how his job works. But the number he has is supposedly Seongwu’s personal line, so he should pick up.

His finger hovers over Seongwu’s name in his contacts. What if he forgot about their arrangement? 

But he still has to call, even if Seongwu might’ve forgotten. He’s been looking forward to it all week, and if worst comes to worst, he can pretend he called the wrong number like he did the other day.

He shouldn’t keep hesitating like this. Seongwu hasn’t let him down yet, he won’t start now, Minhyun tells himself.

 _Trust me_ , Seongwu’s voice echoes in his head, and Minhyun starts the call and then promptly shoves his face into his pillow.

It only rings once before Seongwu picks up and his voice comes out low and clear through his phone’s speaker. “I missed you.”

“Oh,” Minhyun says. He brings his phone closer. “Um, I missed you too. You remember who I am still, right?”

“I told you, I can’t forget you,” Seongwu laughs. “Stop selling yourself short. The only thing that’s gotten me through some parts of this week is remembering I had something to look forward to. Something being this.”

Minhyun shifts onto his back, relieved to know he’s not the only one who’s been using this as an escape. “I guess remembering people is part of the job.”

“This isn’t my job, sweetheart,” Seongwu says, and the pet name rolls off his tongue so easily Minhyun shivers. The first time he heard Seongwu say it, when he initially called, it sounded so _fake_. But now it just sounds teasing, a display of flirtatiousness, and he doesn’t mind it nearly as much. “You’re not paying me for this. I’m not going to ask you to pay again. Ever, I mean.”

“Not that you got paid for last time.”

“Yeah.” He hears something shift on the other end and then an ‘oof’. “Sorry, I was moving to my bed. But, yeah. I don’t care about the money. I just want to fuck you.”

Minhyun tugs his shirt over his mouth, breathing in sharply. God, he wants it too. So badly it aches. He’s not really the type to thing about sex on the regular, but the moment the words come through the speaker, he can feel all the pent up frustration from the past few days come to the surface.

“Me too,” Minhyun says quietly. “I want that too.”

“Then get comfortable. What do you have with you today, Minhyunnie?” 

Nevermind. He definitely likes the way Seongwu says his name better than any pet name. 

“Um,” Minhyun glances over at his bedside table and then at his suitcase. “Some clothes, a pack of pens, a textbook from two years ago—”

“I meant like, sex stuff. But good to know that you’re always prepared to write something down.” Seongwu laughs, and though Minhyun’s flustered, he laughs along with him. He’s suddenly so nervous. He wasn’t nervous at all up until he picked up his phone to call him. “You’re always so wound up, huh?”

Minhyun rubs his eyes, blinking at the ceiling. “Lately, yeah. You can tell?”

“I kinda figured from our last call, but. Your voice gives it away too.” Seongwu hums, not sounding judgmental; more concerned than anything. “The question?”

“I have that lube, and... I’m still at my parent’s place. I didn’t bring any toys with me here.”

“So you do own toys.”

“Yeah, but they’re not _here_ ,” Minhyun emphasizes. 

“I was noting for future reference. It’s okay though, baby. Don’t worry about it. Go get your lube and then strip, okay?”

Minhyun does so with less hesitation than last time. He picks up the lube and then throws his boxers into his dirty laundry pile, landing safely on his bed again after a minute.

“You done?”

“I got it.” His thighs rub together, giving light friction to his dick. Not hard yet, but he’s positive he’s on the way there. Just Seongwu’s voice and how he said fuck is making heat pool in his stomach. His breathing comes out laboured and he tries to steady himself before he continues. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You know how you wanna get off today?” Seongwu asks. 

“No, just,” Minhyun rubs his palm against his thigh and then presses down, groaning. “Can you just do what you did last time?”

“Fingering you or,” Seongwu’s voice feels so close, so fucking _close_ , like he’s right beside him. “Taking care of you?”

Minhyun’s brain takes some time to process the difference between those. 

“The second one,” he decides, no more than a whisper.

“Alright. I know what you need.” _Whatever you want_ , Minhyun thinks. “Close your eyes,” Seongwu orders.

Minhyun’s eyes shut and he sinks into the scenario he’s built up for the past week. Of that blurry, tall, dark-haired man with the sweet voice running his hands over his body. Minhyun’s not normally so submissive, but something about Seongwu’s certainty makes him feel compelled to listen. 

He supposes that’s why Seongwu’s so good at his job. He’s adaptable. He knows what Minhyun needs even if Minhyun doesn’t know how to express it. Maybe one day he’ll flip the tables on Seongwu, but that day isn’t today.

“You’re thinking too loud, baby,” Seongwu says. “I’m gonna get you relaxed. Where do you want me to touch first?”

He tries to think back to their last call through his muddled mind, to what felt good. But everything felt good to him. Thankfully, his hands have a mind of their own, and he starts with his chest.

“I can hear you moving around. Where are you touching?”

“My chest,” Minhyun breathes out. He forgot he was supposed to actually answer. He presses down on his nipples lightly, one underneath each of his thumbs, but it’s not enough. “It’s not enough.”

“Then go harder,” Seongwu says like it’s obvious. “We can go however you want, Minhyunnie. I just didn’t think you liked it hard or fast.”

“Why?” Minhyun asks, scraping his nails over his chest instead, pushing down more roughly. He groans.

“Honestly? You don’t seem like the type.”

“What does that mean?” Minhyun questions, but it’s punctured by another gasp at the end. His stomach flexes underneath his own touch, covered in a layer of sweat already in spite of how cold his room is. “Can I—”

“I want you over me,” Seongwu interrupts. “I want to see your beautiful body. Can you sit up for me?”

It’s all in his head, he knows, but it’s not so much the image of it happening that turns him on compared to the idea that Seongwu’s imagining it too. He pushes himself upwards, rolling his hips back.

“You’re so beautiful,” Seongwu sighs. “I know it doesn’t sound like it, but I’ve been pretty impatient too.”

“God,” Minhyun says. The edge of his palm scrapes against his dick and his legs tense with the effort it takes to not give himself more. “I need you, Seongwu.” If Seongwu were underneath him, it’d be so easy to just rock back against his dick. Shit. The thought goes straight to his groin. “So fucking badly,” he groans.

“I want to suck you off first, Minhyunnie. Just to calm you down more.”

He bites into his knuckles, and he can’t resist moving his hand to touch his cock. Seongwu’s voice is nice, which means his tongue is nice, which means a whole number of other things involving his dick-sucking abilities. Not that Minhyun ever doubted them. His own tongue darts out of his mouth, panting.

“Seongwu...”

“You can keep touching yourself. I know you already are. Your voice changes as you get more desperate.” Minhyun runs his hand over his shaft. It’s a little too dry, but he doesn’t mind that much. “I can’t wait to get you in my mouth. I bet you have a nice dick, huh?”

Minhyun manages a laugh, rolling his thumb over his tip. He can practically feel Seongwu’s breath ghost over his thighs. It’s all too vivid. “I’ve been told that once or twice.”

“So have I,” Seongwu says, amused. “Put some of the lube on yourself. Do you usually top?”

Minhyun’s not sure how Seongwu expects him to multitask jerking off and holding a conversation at the same time. He drizzles the lube over himself, not really caring how much he gets on the sheets. “In—in my last relationship, yeah,” he stutters out. It feels so much better with the slickness and he whines, the movement of his hand speeding up. 

“But you don’t mind this, right?” Seongwu asks. “Me fucking you.”

“No,” Minhyun says instantly. “I like it, I—fuck, Seongwu, please, just do something already.”

“I was just making sure. Though I guess this isn’t the best time to have a conversation.” Minhyun snorts but it comes out more strained than usual. “Okay, I want to put my tongue on you.”

“Seongwu.”

“I want to hear you moan when I lick you,” Seongwu continues. “I want to feel your dick hit the back of my throat.”

“ _Seongwu_ ,” Minhyun groans, nearly begging.

“Does it feel good, baby?” Seongwu asks, as if Minhyun’s noises aren’t enough. He’s tugging at himself as fast as his wrist can go. He uses his other hand to blindly grab for his phone, then cradles it on his shoulder, propped up against the headboard so he can hear Seongwu as loud as possible. “You like how my mouth feels?”

Minhyun cups his palm around his dick, squeezing down, pretending the warm heat around him is Seongwu’s _mouth_ , and fuck _yes_ , he does. 

“Tell me,” Seongwu prompts.

“Yes,” Minhyun answers, stroking his length. He’s leaking all over his own hand. It’s so wet that it doesn’t take much trouble to picture Seongwu in between his legs, mouthing over him. “I—it feels so good, Seongwu.”

“I’ll finger you at the same time.” Minhyun takes this as a prompt to lube his fingers up and trace his hole. He’s sure his breathing is just as loud as Seongwu’s own voice as he presses the first digit in, his other hand still pumping his cock. “I’m going to make you feel good everywhere. I want you so blissed out you forget your own name. All you’ll remember is mine.”

He hears Seongwu move again on the other end, the noise of his bed creaking and Minhyun’s positive he’s getting off now too. Thinking about Seongwu pumping himself on the other end, envisioning Minhyun on top of him, like he asked and Minhyun complied with, turns him on just as much as the finger in his ass. He sounds more worked up than usual, too, and that pleases Minhyun in a way he can’t describe. 

Fuck. The things Seongwu can do to him just by _existing_.

“My tongue, swirling around you, and...” Seongwu’s trying to keep his voice steady, but the little moan that gets through heightens all of Minhyun’s senses. “My fingers inside you. Getting you nice and ready for me, so I can fit into your tight hole.”

Minhyun spreads his legs more, one of his feet almost falling off the bed, and pushes another finger inside. He can’t keep his thrusts consistent; he just jams them into his prostate, his body shaking. He fumbles for more lube to put on himself and then continues, timing his fingers to the pumps he gives his cock. 

By the time Seongwu speaks up again, Minhyun’s dizzy. He can barely stay upright. “Gonna fuck you,” he says. “You have three fingers in yet?”

Minhyun adds the third then, stilling for a moment as the pleasure wracks through him. It’s too much. He releases his dick and holds the phone instead. “Fuck me,” he whispers.

“There we go.” Minhyun sinks his fingers in deeper, as deep as they can possibly go, pushing so hard against his prostate that he cries out. “You’re so hot, Minhyunnie. You feel so good. Fuck.” Minhyun can hear every one of Seongwu’s breaths through the speaker.

“You want it sweet, Minhyunnie? Want to feel me deep inside you? Dragging in and out, nice and slow—” Seongwu continues, the arousal in his voice mounting. “I don’t think you do. You want it hard. You said it yourself. You want me to hold you down, press my fingers into your hip bones, use your hole until I’m satisfied before you’re allowed to cum.”

Minhyun’s hips thrust into the air, and suddenly he feels so empty, even with three fingers inside him. He gathers some more lube and puts in a forth. He’s so stretched now and yet it’s still not enough. He doesn’t think his fingers will ever be enough when it’s Seongwu guiding him.

“I told you, I know what you need.” Minhyun has no doubts about that. He shudders. “You don’t need to think anymore. Not when I’m thrusting into you, not when I’m pulling on your hair and kissing down your nape, not when I’m rubbing the head of my dick against you, smearing lube and cum all over your dirty hole.” He can’t keep up with Seongwu’s words anymore. All he’s listening to are Seongwu’s low moans.

“I _can’t_ ,” is the most coherent thing Minhyun can get out. “Seongwu...”

“Perfect,” Seongwu murmurs, each syllable heavy with the force of what Minhyun imagines must be him thrusting into his hand. “You take it so well, Minhyunnie. Like you were made for me. Let go. Stop thinking and let go. You’re mine now.” Something about the way Seongwu commands him always seems to do him in.

Minhyun cries out sharply as he cums, trembling through his release, his fingers driving into himself until he physically can’t handle it anymore. The phone drops off his shoulder back onto the mattress and he hastily slips his digits out, shifting his legs right into the mess on the sheets in an attempt to get away from the oversensitivity.

“Minhyun,” Seongwu gasps as he follows. If Minhyun wasn’t so spent, the call of his name would’ve had him jumping up again. He licks his lips, thinking about Seongwu’s body convulsing as he cums. All because of him.

Stretching his back, he rests his head against his pillow to try and rid his lightheadedness. It doesn’t take him as long to come to this time, but he’s exhausted now.

“Shit,” Seongwu says loudly. “You good?”

“Uh-huh,” he sighs. Definitely blissed out, or just past it. Seongwu got his wish. “Yeah. Wow.”

“You know, you’re the first person I’ve gotten off to more than two times.” He’s hoarse.

Minhyun laughs, weaker than usual; his chest feels heavy after all that. “You said this isn’t part of your job.”

“Yeah. I guess it doesn’t count then.”

Though his muscles feel like mush now, whatever Seongwu did worked, as usual, to ease some of the weight off his shoulders. His body feels all pleasant and warm now, like all he needs is a long nap and then he’ll be ready to face the world again.

After recovering his breath, he throws the top sheet off his bed. “I’m going to clean up before it gets gross,” he says.

“I won’t hang up,” Seongwu promises. Minhyun smiles.

He grabs a clean towel and runs it under some warm water, wiping off most of his lower body. He can shower tomorrow morning; for now, he just needs his cum off him. He’d be in a lot less of a hurry to get it off if it was actually Seongwu’s but, well. As much as he wants it to be, it’s not. 

After he’s content with his cleanliness, he falls back into his bed.

“You should’ve told me you liked it rough,” Seongwu comments, and he sounds more composed now as well than he did before Minhyun left.

Minhyun rolls onto his side, keeping his phone virtually glued to his face. “It’s not as if you were particularly soft before.”

“I meant more like,” Seongwu struggles to explain. “Today... I was being more blunt. Forward is probably a better way to put it. And I can do a lot more, if you want.”

Minhyun’s cheeks don’t even flush too much at that. He _is_ getting used to this, or at least he’s comfortable around Seongwu. He usually hates talking about sex in detail to his friends, let alone strangers.

Then again, Seongwu has done a lot for him already. He clearly puts a lot of effort into satisfying Minhyun as best as he can. And it’s not his job, like he keeps repeating; it’s his personal time he’s using to fuck Minhyun over the phone. So Minhyun surmises that may make them friends in some strange, sexual way.

“I didn’t really know I liked it either. At least not to that extent,” Minhyun admits. “I’ve never done... verbal stuff like this before. But I liked it. Maybe it’s just because it’s you saying it, though.”

“Oh?” Seongwu intones, and then breaks out into a laugh. “I’m happy that you think that about me. As long as you feel good, that’s what matters.”

“I mean, you are _pretty_ good at this phone sex thing,” Minhyun corrects himself. “And you got off too. So it’s mutual.”

“Mhm.” Seongwu’s voice gets more distant as he adds, “But everything’s okay with you, right?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I said it earlier. I can tell from your voice. You always sound stressed—or you did before. Not so much now. I think I’ll take credit for that.” There’s a smile in his tone. Minhyun smiles as well and lets him have his gloating. He’s right, anyways.

“You were right,” Minhyun says, thinking back to Seongwu’s words from a few days ago. “There’s no better way to de-stress than fuck,” he quotes. “But I’m okay. Thanks for asking.”

“You’re a quick learner.”

They lie there in silence for a while and Minhyun finds himself almost on the brink of passing out when Seongwu speaks up again.

“Is it okay if I text you?”

Minhyun jolts up, shaken awake by Seongwu’s voice. “Um,” Minhyun runs his hand through his hair. “What? ... Sorry.”

“I said, is it okay if I text you?” The giggle he lets out goes straight to Minhyun’s heart. “I figured it’d be easier than having to plan out each time you want to call. Only if you’re okay with it, of course.”

“Oh.” That makes sense. “Sure. Yeah. Uh, this is my personal number, so you can just message this one.”

“I didn’t think you were using someone else’s phone to call me, but thanks.”

Minhyun shakes his head; he wishes Seongwu could see him roll his eyes. His eye rolls are legendary. “Text me after, I’ll add your number to my phone.”

“‘Kay.” He hears the tap tap of Seongwu’s fingers against his screen. “Go to bed now. You almost fell asleep there, huh?”

“You should sleep too,” Minhyun mumbles.

“I will,” Seongwu promises. Minhyun’s phone vibrates with a new message. “Sweet dreams, baby.” The line goes dead after that. Seongwu must be tired too. Minhyun can’t blame him for wanting to get to bed.

He flicks off his call screen to his messages, and as expected, there’s an unknown number at the top of the list.

_i set your picture as my friend’s cat because i didn’t know what else to put. send me another one by tomorrow afternoon or forever be a cat. goodnight minhyunnie._

Minhyun doesn’t really have the energy to change it. And out of all things, being the cat in Seongwu’s phone isn’t that bad. 

_Goodnight, Seongwu._ He sends a smiley face after for good measure.

Exchanging numbers for real seems like the first step to making this a consistent thing. Easy access to each other and all that. And if this becomes a routine, well, Minhyun’s more than okay with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when you casually come to update your fic 5 1/2 months later... hello! if you follow me on twt you know i pretty much dropped this fic (and all my fics) but i've been getting so many kind and encouraging ccs about it lately i felt unusually inspired to try and continue. i've been having a rough time irl and honestly i don't know if the quality is up to par but regardless i hope you all enjoyed reading! and i'll do my best to update the next chapter in a faster time than 5 months lol.
> 
> kudos and comments especially are of course appreciated and you can always talk to me on my cc! thanks again for reading. ♥
> 
> twitter: [@btajhs](https://twitter.com/btajhs) cc: [btajh](http://curiouscat.me/btajh)


	4. Chapter 4

Minhyun learns three things about Seongwu very fast after beginning to text him.

One: he’s an oversharer. He tells Minhyun all about why he’s doing phone sex as a job (he’s in between jobs and his ex-girlfriend said he has a nice voice); about how he cried himself to sleep a few weeks ago (because said ex-girlfriend butt dialed him); and about the drama in his friend circle (his ex-girlfriend and his close friend started dating right after they broke up.)

He can’t really say he minds because Seongwu has listened to his problems as well, but he finds a lot of what Seongwu shares with him amusing. He supposes he’s a good outlet as an outsider, someone who doesn’t know too much about Seongwu but also enough that Minhyun can give genuine condolences to his problems.

Two: he’s really friendly. Minhyun already knew this because of their previous problem-sharing sessions but it comes up a lot more when Seongwu can text him at any time. Seongwu asks him _have you eaten yet?_ and _it’s raining today, bring out an umbrella_ in between texts about Minhyun’s dick.

Out of all his friends, Minhyun’s normally the one to nag people. So it’s strange and nice at the same time to be on the receiving end for once.

Three: he’s always horny.

Always.

 **Seongwu 14:23  
** image attachment.jpeg

 **Seongwu 14:23  
** image attachment.jpeg

 **Seongwu 14:24  
** image attachment.jpeg

 **Minhyun 14:24  
** i’m at work

 **Seongwu 14:24  
** image attachment.jpeg

Minhyun is appreciative of all the different angles Seongwu takes of his dick, at least.

Sex via texting turns out to be a lot different than sex via the phone—when they were talking only over the phone, Minhyun had to imagine what his dick looked like. How tall he was. How big his hands were. Through text, Seongwu can bombard him with images of all of the above.

The answer to all those questions is that his dick is perfect, he’s tall, and his hands are fucking _huge_.

He sees the preview for the images and slams his phone face down on the table and takes a sharp, deep breath. He doesn’t understand how Seongwu can be so shameless. Seongwu knows he’s at work. Does he _want_ random people to see his dick?

Actually, he shouldn’t ask that. Knowing Seongwu, the answer is probably yes.

“What’s wrong, Minhyun?” Jisung asks. “Cat got your tongue?”

“I—What?” Minhyun blinks.

“I asked if you were ready to go.”

Minhyun slides his phone into his back pocket and nods, a little too quickly. “Yeah, sorry. I’m ready.” Jisung gives him a look that says he doesn’t exactly believe him, but he’s too kind to press Minhyun further. “I promise,” Minhyun adds. “Let’s just set everything up.”

Work is easy and not challenging at all, which Minhyun hates. The people are nice, but his brain needs proper activity to stay awake and following Jisung’s orders on where to shine the light doesn’t require much of his own thought.

Unsurprisingly, he thinks about Seongwu. And Seongwu’s dick. He wonders if Seongwu got off after sending him those pictures or if he’s been waiting patiently for Minhyun to get off work and text him back. Probably the former.

When they get another break, Minhyun locks himself into one of the single bathrooms. His pants have been vibrating practically nonstop for the past twenty minutes, which means there’s probably a hundred messages waiting for him.

He flicks into his chat with Seongwu and groans out loud.

It’s so unfair to Minhyun—Seongwu is well aware that he’s teasing him, he’s well aware of the power he holds over Minhyun with his voice and his cock, and he’s _well_ aware that Minhyun can’t do anything to respond right now.

Seongwu must be having fun with himself, judging by the sticky mess of pre-cum on his hand and how hard he is in the most recent picture he sent Minhyun. Minhyun’s admittedly pretty surprised that Seongwu has the patience to edge himself.

 **Seongwu 16:22  
** i know you saw those

 **Seongwu 16:22  
** send me something back

 **Minhyun 16:22  
** i’m still at work

 **Seongwu 16:23  
** ok so?

Minhyun sticks out his tongue in exasperation as he types out his reply.

 **Minhyun 16:23  
** i’m not going to send you pics of me while i’m at work

 **Seongwu 16:23  
** why not

 **Seongwu 16:23  
** i bet you look hot as fuck

 **Seongwu 16:23  
** tight shirt and tight pants, yeah?

He sits down on the toilet cover, suddenly self-aware of how tight his pants are. They’re _work-appropriate._ It’s not his fault his thighs fill them out.

 **Minhyun 16:24  
** this is all you’re getting

Switching to his phone’s camera app, he adjusts the zoom and angle carefully to make sure his face isn’t in the picture. His body isn’t distinctive enough on its own for anyone to recognize him, but Seongwu hasn’t brought up sharing _actual_ personal details with each other, like their faces and full names, so Minhyun isn’t going to either.

He does tug on his tie slightly to loosen it, though. Because if Seongwu’s going to tease him, he’s going to tease him too.

 **Minhyun 16:25  
** image attachment.jpeg

It takes what feels like forever for Seongwu to reply. He lets go of his tie and ducks his head, trying very hard not to think about Seongwu stroking himself right now to a picture of Minhyun. Thinking about cumming on him or in him.

The more he tries not to think about it, the more he ends up thinking about it.

 **Seongwu 16:27  
** wanna tie you up with that

 **Seongwu 16:27  
** or gag you

 **Seongwu 16:27  
** you’re so loud

Minhyun is about to reply but Seongwu’s messages keep coming.

 **Seongwu 16:27  
** wanna tie you up and then fuck you in front of a window so everyone can see what you get like when you get dick

Fuck. Minhyun’s going to get hard if they keep going.

 **Minhyun 16:28  
** i’ll text you after work

 **Seongwu 16:28  
** i’ll be waiting

Minhyun spends the rest of the day trying to control his boner and avoiding Jisung’s worried looks.

He slams the door to his room when he gets back home. He hasn’t even unpacked from visiting his family yet because he’s been so busy with work and friends and now _Seongwu_. Minhyun hates messes, but he hates not being satisfied even more, so he can deal with the suitcase on his floor if it’s exchanged for time with Seongwu.

His message said he would text Seongwu but he calls him instead. It’s easier to talk over the phone. And it leaves his hands free to do whatever.

“Hey,” Seongwu says, picking up after the third ring. “I’m eating dinner.”

Minhyun lays down on his bed and stretches out like a starfish. “You said you’d be waiting for me,” he says accusingly. He didn’t spend the entire day thinking about Seongwu’s dick only to get cockblocked.

“Yeah, but you caught me when I’m eating.” His crunching sounds like static.

“Then—stop,” Minhyun grumbles. Seongwu laughs at him. “Why are you so dirty over texts and then like this over the phone?”

“What do you mean, like this? Consuming food? I think everyone eats, Minhyunnie. We all need nutrients.” He crunches louder on purpose.

“You know what I mean.” Minhyun puts the phone on speaker as usual and then sighs. He might as well unpack then, if Seongwu’s not going to do anything with him now. “You say stuff through text and then don’t follow through.”

“You don’t think I’m going to follow through?”

There’s a ton of useless stuff at the top of his suitcase that his parents made him take back with him, like a mini fan (he already has a dozen) and socks (he doesn’t need more socks.) He appreciates the thought but he knows they only gave him stuff to guilt trip him later on; they weren’t even supposed to be getting each other gifts for Christmas. He’ll probably just give all of it to Jinyoung.

“Hey, answer me,” Seongwu whines.

“Oh my god, you sound like a child. No, I don’t think you’re going to follow through. You just said you’re eating. I’m going to unpack from my trip instead and then go to bed.”

“You’re the one who’s impatient.” Minhyun begins piling his dirty laundry into his laundry bin. He didn’t bring many clothes there in the first place so he had to rewear the same things over and over—and some of his pyjama bottoms are dirty. Because of Seongwu. “You made me wait all day. You can wait a bit for me to be done.”

Minhyun doesn’t answer him. He listens to Seongwu eat while pulling out his laptop cords and hooking everything back up onto his table.

“Have you ever tried food sex?” Seongwu asks suddenly. Minhyun nearly knocks his head into the table by accident.

“Food—no! No, I haven’t. And I don’t really want to.”

“Geez. I was just asking. You know I’d try it if you wanted to.”

He rolls his eyes but he can feel his ears go even redder. How can Seongwu say stuff like that and not burst out laughing?

But Seongwu did say he’s a poetry minor. Drunk-Minhyun knew what he was getting into.

“‘Kay. I’m done,” Seongwu announces. Minhyun checks his phone; they’ve been on call for half an hour and about eighty-percent of it was in silence, aside from Seongwu’s crunching. “Let’s fuck now.”

“I told you, I’m unpacking. And then I have to shower and then I’m going to sleep.”

Seongwu moans.

“Are you already getting off?” Minhyun asks, scandalized. “It’s been less than a minute.”

“You sound really hot when you’re mad,” Seongwu supplies as his reasoning. “Don’t worry, I actually finished eating a while ago. I just had to wash my hands and move to my room. I wouldn’t touch my dick with greasy hands. That’s gross.” At least they can agree on one thing.

“You already got off today,” Minhyun continues to mutter. “While I had to deal with controlling a hard-on in front of my co-worker and _friend_.”

“Sounds rough. But you’re wrong. I didn’t get off earlier.”

Minhyun frowns and squints at his phone as if the screen will tell him if Seongwu’s lying or not. “You just left it? Seriously?”

“I told you I was going to wait for you. So I did. I ran errands and then I was eating when you called, obviously.” The way Seongwu’s voice shifts tells Minhyun that he’s smiling directly into the microphone. “I’d never lie to you about that, baby. I know you’d get mad at me and I don’t want that. I just want you to feel good.”

“Stop talking to me like that,” Minhyun mumbles, but there’s no heat behind his words. “I’m not mad. I’m... frustrated.”

“Then let’s fix that, sweetheart.”

Minhyun shuts his eyes and debates his options. He can tell Seongwu to be quiet, hang up, and then bombard him with pictures of his own tomorrow. Except that means jerking off alone into a tissue.

Or he can just follow what Seongwu says and have another mind-blowing orgasm. Which is infinitely better than cumming into a tissue by himself.

“Why _are_ you like this,” Minhyun mumbles. He pulls out the box from under his bed with all of his sex-related stuff. It doesn’t hurt to be prepared.

“Honestly, I just say what I know you’ll like.”

No one else can read Minhyun as easily as Seongwu can, and Seongwu barely knows anything about his life. Maybe it’s because they started with intimacy and are making their way upwards, backwards. It makes him feel like an open book. He’s never had someone worm their way into his regular schedule so quickly.

He doesn’t exactly mind it, however. They _are_ friends and it’s not as if either of them are losing anything by doing this. He just sort of wishes he knew more about Seongwu’s life.

“Uh, but, can I ask you something?” Seongwu says, breaking through Minhyun’s thoughts.

“Uh-huh,” Minhyun answers as he rolls a clean towel over his bed.

“Can we do it on video today?” He somehow knows exactly what Minhyun’s going to say because he hastily continues, “Not showing our faces. Just, um. I mean, we call and we send each other pictures so why don’t we just do it on video instead.”

Minhyun’s hands pause mid-air. “Like... record ourselves?”

“No. Like. Video calling. You have an iPhone, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you ever Facetimed?”

“... No?”

Seongwu makes a noise in between a laugh and a despairful cry. “Okay, well. It’s just another way to video call. Like... Skype. Please tell me you’ve heard of skype.”

“Of course I have.” Minhyun opens up the home screen on his phone again and goes to his contacts. He knows what video calling is. The button is right there. He’s never pressed it, but it’s there. For Seongwu to see him, in real-time, as they talk... he didn’t mentally prepare himself for this.

“We can do that with our phones too. If you... if you want to. Only if you want to. If you don’t then... we don’t have to. Don’t feel pressured or anything. I just thought it’d be easier.”

Minhyun’s not embarrassed about his body. He’s not even that embarrassed about talking over the phone, at least not now that they’ve been doing it for a couple of weeks. It’s not as if Seongwu’s ever made fun of him. It’s just...

Embarrassing. It’s just _embarrassing_ and he doesn’t know why he’s already so flustered. They haven’t started and yet his cock is stirring between his legs. It’s only a matter of time before he gets hard again.

“Would you like that?” Minhyun asks.

“Well—I mean—of course I would. You know I think you’re hot, Minhyun. I don’t need to see your face to know that. But if you don’t want to then I won’t... I’m not going to be upset or anything. I’m happy either way. But if you’re okay with trying then—”

Minhyun presses the video call button without saying anything else.

It takes a second for the video to load and Minhyun props his phone up sideways on his bedside table. If he sits up straight, the camera can’t capture his face. It limits his position, but it’s not uncomfortable.

Minhyun forgets that he’s supposed to be doing something sexy when Seongwu’s half-naked body appears on his screen.

“Okay,” Minhyun says because he isn’t sure how to react to Seongwu’s dick.

“Okay,” Seongwu repeats. “Now you can actually see what you do to me.” Seeing Seongwu’s shoulders shake for the first time as he laughs makes Minhyun smile as well. He can almost see Seongwu’s jaw, where the corners of his lips must be as equally upturned. “And I can see what I do to you.”

Seongwu still has his boxers on, but his shirt is off. The outline of his hard cock underneath the fabric ends with a little wet spot at the tip. Minhyun’s still fully clothed and he reaches to take off his shirt without being asked.

“You kinda make me feel inadequate. Your body is perfect,” Seongwu admits. “I couldn’t believe it when you first sent me a photo.”

Minhyun throws his shirt aside. Seongwu is much leaner than him, but he must work out semi-regularly because he’s still toned. Minhyun’s been working out every day lately, but his body still isn’t where he wants it to be. Daniel says his cheeks are _squishy_.

“You aren’t inadequate,” Minhyun says quietly. He’s not as good as Seongwu is at handing out compliments but he’s compelled to try. “I think your body is perfect too.”

Seongwu never stops laughing around him. Minhyun giggles too. His legs press together, hiding his growing erection.

“You’re so nice when you want to be. Move your arms, I wanna see all of you.”

Part of him considers not doing so to tease him, but Minhyun’s breathing is starting to come out heavy and he’s not going to get anything by stalling. His arms go limp at his sides.

Seongwu follows suit, spreading his legs wider so that Minhyun can see more of his flushed skin and the bulge in his underwear. Minhyun licks his lips. _God_ , he wants to touch him.

“Next time, you should get yourself ready for me while I’m busy,” Seongwu says. He trails a hand down his own chest, brushing over his nipples, doing all the things Minhyun wants to do to him but can’t.

“You’re not going to keep me waiting next time,” Minhyun says with a bit of an edge.

“Probably not,” Seongwu concedes. “Let me see you touch yourself.”

Minhyun nods, only the very tip of his chin being visible, and then gulps as his hands move.

He tugs on the hem of his boxers, slapping it against his skin once, and Seongwu sighs on the other end. He has his own hand rubbing over his crotch, getting his boxers even more wet.

Minhyun copies his pace, slipping his fingers over his dick, over his boxers, like Seongwu. It’s not much stimulation; more like a tease, but he’s been waiting all day and even the slightest touch makes him tremble from head to toe.

“So sensitive,” Seongwu murmurs. For once, Minhyun sees Seongwu struggling to hold onto his control as well.

“Only because I’ve been—” Minhyun swallows a whine, “—been waiting all day. Asshole.”

Seongwu snorts.

“Your voice doesn’t really suit swear words.” Seongwu tugs off his boxers down to his knees, unannounced, and Minhyun stills in order to blatantly stare. Seongwu’s _so_ hard, it must be painful. The thick head of his cock brushes against his stomach. “You can’t multitask, can you?”

Minhyun goes back to rubbing himself at the sight. He pushes his thumb against his tip, digging his nail in. Only a little. Just to give it some edge.

“Talking, touching yourself, and watching me. I guess you can only do two at once.”

Minhyun’s brain short circuits in something like panic when he sees Seongwu get up, but he keeps mind of the camera and all Minhyun gets is a view of the back of his head. He returns with a bottle of lube and props up one leg, apparently having no shame about showing off his dick.

“You can keep going, you know.” Seongwu pours some lube onto his hand and then goes back to stroking his dick. Slowly, carefully, as to not get too into it. “I never told you to only touch over your boxers.”

There’s some sort of witty comeback on the tip of his tongue, but Minhyun really _can’t_ multitask three things at once, and his eyes are practically glued to watching Seongwu. And even then, he’s not sure if he should be focusing on Seongwu’s dick or his _massive fucking hands_.

Minhyun should’ve turned on the AC before they started. He’s sweating.

He takes his boxers off completely and throws them aside somewhere; he doesn’t have the energy to pay attention to where they land. He moves eagerly to touch himself again, faster than Seongwu.

“You have no concept of patience during sex,” Seongwu murmurs. “Does seeing me turn you on, baby? You wanna be here, touching me?”

“Yes,” Minhyun breathes out. “Of course I do.” How could he _not_. “What a silly question,” he mumbles.

Minhyun shifts, allowing Seongwu to see more. All the blood in his body is rushing to his cock and he brushes his thumb over the tip again, watching as Seongwu pumps his fist. All the way to his balls, his movements passage made easier by the lube.

“Watching you is a lot harder than just listening,” Seongwu chuckles. “Pun intended. I keep thinking about you touching me everywhere. Fuck, Minhyun, I’ve been thinking nonstop about fucking your thighs for a week.”

“That’s specific,” Minhyun murmurs. His cock is aching from how dry his hands are, more noticeable now that he can hear and see Seongwu using lube, and he knows himself well enough to know he’ll cum if he keeps going. He moves his hand down to brush over his hole, instead. His hole seems to know what he wants, parting easily for the very tip of his finger. He’s never fingered himself so much in such a short period of time.

“You have thick thighs,” Seongwu explains. “Soft enough ones, for sure.”

“Because you’re an expert in thighs.”

“I am, actually,” he says cheekily.

Minhyun laughs quietly but the moment he stretches for the lube in the box, he stops. Seongwu does as well, and Minhyun sits on his legs, thinking hard on what to say.

“What’s wrong?” Seongwu asks, wiping his hand on his sheets in concern. Like he’ll reach out and hug Minhyun if something actually is wrong.

“I have...” Minhyun reaches further away than he knows the camera can see. “I have those toys with me now. Because I’m back home.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

As much as he likes making Seongwu speechless, he’s aware that Seongwu’s waiting for him continue that sentence. When he grasps onto the base of the dildo, any thoughts he has about not using it go out the window. This is the closest thing he’s touched to an actual dick that could potentially be inside him since they started talking and he yearns for a stretch thicker than his fingers.

“I want to use it, and.” Minhyun quickly sits back down in his original spot, dildo in hand. It’s not too large, but not too small, either; it was advertised on the site as the _beginner’s toy_ and he bought it for that reason. He can’t even remember the last time he used it. Too long ago, definitely. “I thought you wanted me to as well. Right?”

Seongwu grips the base of his cock tightly, the veins in his hand becoming more noticable. “Fuck. Yeah. Why would you even need to _ask_ that. Now you’re the one asking silly questions”

“It’s healthy to communicate everything.”

He pumps some lube onto his hand and wastes no time in pushing one finger in. Getting Seongwu a good view without letting the camera see his face is difficult; he tries to raise his hips more, but he doesn’t have the strength to hold the position longer than a few seconds.

“I’m going to turn around,” Minhyun pants. “So you can see.”

He does so, bracing one arm on the wall and going back to easing his fingers inside himself. He’s always hated this position, with his back facing his partner. But he can feel Seongwu’s soft gaze on him, even if he can’t see his eyes. And when he glances back, he sees how Seongwu’s still holding himself back so he can watch him.

“You’re so beautiful,” Seongwu whispers. It’s his favourite phrase to say during sex and it makes Minhyun jerk every time.

He lets out a loud gasp and pushes in another finger. He’s used to cumming from his fingers nowadays, but he wants Seongwu to see him riding the dildo. For the first time, Seongwu can actually see him as more than a voice. He wants Seongwu to wake up in the morning with Minhyun embed his mind, like Minhyun does with Seongwu.

He bites on his lower lip to keep himself relatively quiet. Seongwu appears mesmerized, not stimulating himself at all anymore. His red cock bobs, untouched, and his hand lies on his thigh. There’s a few tiny red marks from where he’s dug his nails into himself.

Minhyun’s dick brushes against the wall as he changes his position ever so slightly, smearing pre-cum over his wall and the bed, but he ignores it.

Three fingers. Minhyun’s entire body twitches in complaint when he misses his prostate on purpose. He spreads his fingers out and Seongwu’s voice is barely hanging onto its calmness as he speaks up, “I want to spank you.”

Minhyun covers his mouth with his hand as he laughs. Luckily, he can’t get any redder than he already is. “Okay. Sure.”

“Not like, more than a few times. But you seriously just have such nice thighs. They look so plush and...” Seongwu sighs. “Spankable. But as I said, only once or twice.”

Minhyun takes out his fingers, still smiling. “That’s not very good dirty talking.”

“I’m not trying to dirty talk, I’m just telling you I think you have nice thighs and I want to spank them. If I start dirty talking I’m going to cum and I already decided I need to cum while you’re on that dildo. Not before then.”

“You’d cum to your own voice?” Minhyun sweeps the dildo across his thighs, then presses it against his ass.

“When you put it that way, it makes me sound conceited.”

The head of the dildo is swallowed easily up by his hole.

“Be careful,” Seongwu says.

Minhyun slips down onto the bed as he sinks down onto the dildo. He knows if he moves his head at all Seongwu’s going to see his face, so he hides it in his arm. “Fuck,” he gasps. His throat hurts with how hard he tries to keep his noises in check. “Fuck.”

He’s so full. His own fingers are really nothing compared to this. The first place his thoughts go to once he’s seated goes to is Seongwu’s dick, and he wants so badly to peek around to look at it, but he can’t. He shudders and forces himself to relax.

“Jesus christ,” Seongwu swears.

He holds the dildo down as he raises his hips, only to slam himself back on.

“Does that thing vibrate?” Seongwu asks.

“N—No, thank god.” There’s no way he could deal with that right now.

“Good, because you can’t imagine it’s my dick if it vibrates. I don’t have a vibrating dick.”

Minhyun doesn’t know whether he should be laughing or crying anymore. He wants to do a bit of both. Seongwu’s evidently struggling not to cum into his hand right now, but Minhyun’s still astounded by his relative composure.

He shuts his eyes. It’s not as if he can really imagine it’s Seongwu anyways; Seongwu doesn’t have a silicone dick, either. And Minhyun’s never been able to fall deep enough into any headspace to the point where he can truly believe Seongwu’s here with him. But it still gives him a thrill to know that Seongwu’s watching his hole take in the whole length of the dildo, right up to the edge.

“Want to cum on your back,” Seongwu says. “Or inside you. Would you be okay with that? I want to mess you up in so many ways. Shit. I want to do so much to you right now I don’t even know where to start.”

Minhyun draws the toy back and then pushes it back. All of Minhyun’s coherency is fading away, and he wipes drool off of his mouth with his arm. He thinks about Seongwu filling him up, like he said, his chest pressed to Minhyun’s back, his breath ghosting over his neck—and he cries out, losing his pace.

“I’d give it to you like you want. So deep that you can feel every inch of me. Like I know you like it. That toy isn’t enough, it’s not me.” Seongwu’s just as breathless as he is. “It doesn’t fill you up like I would.”

He sits down facing the camera again and finds the best position for Seongwu to see him. It’s not as comfortable as leaning against the wall but he has to watch Seongwu as he cums.

“Seongwu,” Minhyun whines as he looks at the screen again.

Seongwu’s entire stomach is covered in his own pre-cum, like the photo earlier, and Minhyun sniffles, nearly honoured by Seongwu’s level of self-control for him. But Minhyun can tell that it’s slipping.

“I wish it was you,” he says, his voice a lot more hurried than his movements. He drags his fingers over his lips. “I wish it was you too. You’re all I need right now. Deep and hot and _inside me_ —”

“F—Fuck.” Seongwu pushes his palm against the head of his cock. Minhyun can’t bear to think about how painful it is for him right now. Minhyun sobs a bit against his own hand. He needs to cum, but he _needs_ to see Seongwu more. He raises himself up, letting the dildo slip into the bed so he can face the camera again.

“I need to see you cum,” Minhyun says desperately. He shoves the toy back in, holding it right against his prostate. He can’t stop shuddering. “Please, god, I’m—please, Seongwu—I just want you to cum all over me and—”

He can’t take it anymore, not when Seongwu cums right in front of him, finally. He moans so loudly Minhyun’s scared his neighbors will hear it. “Minhyun,” he cries out, his fingers shaking, barely having to fist himself to have himself cumming, all over his own body. “Fuck, fuck, _Minhyun_...”

It only takes a few strokes to get Minhyun to spill onto the bed. His hold on the dildo goes lax but he keeps it snug inside him until it begins to be too sore.

He shoves the dildo aside to clean later and slumps against one of his pillows. He doesn’t even care that his camera is catching the lower half of his face.

“You’re a bit of a slut, huh?” Seongwu says, trying to catch his breath just as Minhyun is.

“I’ve actually been told that one before. Once.”

“Only once?” Seongwu repeats.

“Uh-huh.”

“The other people you’ve fucked haven’t been that impressive, I take it.”

For some reason Minhyun starts laughing again. His mind can’t handle everything that’s happening. Seongwu makes it sound and look so easy, to fall in and out of banter and sex, but despite Minhyun’s cock having gone soft, his nerves still feel like they’re electric.

Seongwu plucks a tissue from somewhere off-screen and then wipes himself off. Minhyun pouts and then gets mad at himself for pouting. It’s not as if he can march over to Seongwu’s house and lick the cum off his chest.

He drops the tissue once he’s finished. “The best part of sex is the part after the sex. I swear, I’m going to come over just to help you clean yourself up.”

“Is that one of your kinks?” Minhyun figures that’s his clue to attempt to tidy himself up.

“Not really, but it always hurts a little to know that you’re there alone. I like taking care of you.”

Minhyun’s going to beg Seongwu to go again at this rate. “Be quiet,” he blurts out. Seongwu giggles like he made a joke, but Minhyun’s insides are flipping from the mere thought of Seongwu helping him. Or being in his house in general. “And sorry that you...”

“Whatever you’re about to apologize for, you don’t need to.”

Minhyun ignores him. “I’m sorry you had to wait for me all day. So... we’re even.”

“It’s okay, baby. Edging _is_ one of my kinks, unlike cleaning.”

It hasn’t even been ten minutes since Seongwu was squeezing his cock to force himself not to cum. So, yes, Minhyun is aware, but he still felt like he should apologize.

“I’m gonna shower,” Minhyun says. Showering at night has become a part of his routine.

Seongwu picks up his phone, giving Minhyun a very blurry, very-close up view of his collarbones. “Think of me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Minhyun waves him off. “You know I do.”

“Well, no, I don’t. But if you want to tell me, I won’t object.”

Minhyun reaches for his own phone with a smile. “Later,” he promises.

“See you, Minhyunnie,” Seongwu hums and then hangs up before Minhyun can say anything.

Minhyun blinks at his phone, slightly confused. Maybe Seongwu has to pee or something. He usually drags out their _goodnights_ as long as possible. Either way, Minhyun’s thankful that he can move around without worrying about showing his face to his phone’s camera.

Dragging himself to his bathroom, he flicks on the lights and starts the shower right away. His phone lights up while he’s about to shampoo his hair and he finishes swiftly so that he can check his messages.

 **Seongwu 01:22  
** hey give me your address

 **Minhyun 01:34  
** why

 **Seongwu 01:36  
** don’t worry i’m not going to show up at your doorstep

Minhyun wouldn’t really mind that, but he swallows the thought before he can type it. Instead, he sends Seongwu address.

 **Seongwu 01:37  
** well that was easier than expected

 **Seongwu 01:37  
** what if i’m a serial killer

 **Seongwu 01:37  
** now i can just show up at your door and kill you

Minhyun raises his eyebrows and sets his phone down. He’s not going to dignify that with a response.

His phone vibrates a couple more times while he dries himself and then changes into his pyjamas. He winces when he gets back to his room; he forgot he got cum on his sheets. Again. So he has to make his bed for the second time that week. It never takes him long, but all he wants to do now is pass out. After what feels like an hour, he picks his phone back up and settles into bed.

 **Seongwu 01:39  
** hey did you not find that funny

 **Seongwu 01:39  
** okay well

 **Seongwu 01:39  
** tonight was fun. trying new things is fun

 **Seongwu 01:39  
** i hope you had fun too

 **Seongwu 01:41  
** are you showering

 **Seongwu 01:52  
** i’m going to sleep now

 **Seongwu 01:52  
** night night

Minhyun debates on whether or not to reply. He doesn’t really want to wake Seongwu up by replying, but he’d feel too bad leaving him hanging.

 **Minhyun 02:00  
** i had fun too

 **Minhyun 02:00  
** night, seongwu

His phone is then plugged into its charger and by the time his cheek hits the pillow he’s already half-asleep. He can’t remember what he dreams about, but he wakes up well-rested and to another message from Seongwu.

 **Seongwu 02:07  
** i’m glad

   
  


“You’re less irritable today,” Jisung muses later on. His grin makes Minhyun feel like he’s staring right into his soul. “Was something wrong yesterday?”

“No. I just slept better last night than the night before.” Minhyun checks his phone but Seongwu must be out or working because for once, he’s the one not responding. “Thanks for being concerned though, hyung.”

“I’m not that concerned. It’s not like you weren’t doing your job or anything yesterday. I was more asking out of... curiosity.”

“Thanks for being curious?” Minhyun says, unsure of whether to be flattered or not. “But really, I’m okay.”

“Alright, Minhyunnie.” Jisung hops into the seat next to him. “By the way, the back of your collar is flipped up.”

“What—” Minhyun touches the back of his shirt and sure enough, his collar is flipped up. He fixes it and mutters, “Why didn’t you say something?”

“It’s been like that since you got here. You’d usually have noticed before me.” Jisung tilts his head.

“Hyung.”

“Don’t get mad at me! Get mad at whatever’s distracting you.” Jisung’s eyes crinkle when his smile widens. “Or whoever. You have a just-had-sex kinda glow going on.”

“ _Hyung_!”

Jisung’s teasing doesn’t stop him from obsessively checking his phone all day, however, and he bursts out laughing in the middle of a scene when Seongwu finally responds.

 **Seongwu 11:45  
** sorry some dude called me at 9am and asked me to pretend to be a dog for like three hours

Everyone stares at him. Jisung makes a cutting motion over his throat and Minhyun shuts up immediately.

 **Minhyun 12:02  
** i hope you made a lot of money because i’m going to get fired for laughing out loud at work because of you

 **Seongwu 12:04  
** don’t worry you can become my trophy husband

 **Minhyun 12:05  
** thanks

 **Seongwu 12:05  
** anything for you :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy birthday seongwu. i updated in a lot faster than 5 months just for you
> 
> kudos and comments are as alwaysss appreciated and loved and you can talk to me through the links below!!! thank you for reading!!
> 
> twitter: [@btajhs](https://twitter.com/btajhs) cc: [btajh](http://curiouscat.me/btajh)


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